


Old Oak Trees

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Affairs, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Old Flames, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, Violence, escaping abuse, failing marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Nobody could say that Rhys hadn't tried to keep their relationship from withering away. He loved Jack, right from the very start.But the Jack he'd fallen in love with, the Jack that had put a ring on his finger, the Jack that had promised him forever...that Jack was gone. And nomatter how hard Rhys hoped and pleaded...that Jack wasn't going to return. Life was funny like that. Funny in the way that wasn't hilarious at all. And so Rhys finds himself in a miserably failing marriage, starved for love and affection...Until by happenstance his college flame stumbles back into his life. Rhys had never thought himself the type of man to delve in the scandalous nature of an affair...but nomatter how hard he tries he can't keep himself away from Axton.





	1. Filthy

**Author's Note:**

> Like I really need another friggin story right? Oh well. This idea has been floating around in my head for a while now. I just had to get it into writing. Strap up kids, this isn't gunna be pretty.

It was heavy.

And hot. 

That’s all he could possibly focus on. The thoughts swelled and churned within his brain until it caused the back of his neck to tingle. 

It’s was so miserably hot around him, like the temperature was rising by the second and coiling its’ lengthy fingers around the width of his throat. It was strangling him, his breathing becoming more and more constricted by the fierce heat. 

The side of his face pressed heavily against the high thread-count sheets, the material slightly damp with his exhale of breath. He really wasn’t sure what to feel in that moment. Some of it was discomfort, his fleshed arm trapped underneath the weight of his own chest. Maybe it was frustration, frustration that it wasn’t over quick enough.  This was taking far too long. He was tired. 

He just wanted to sleep. 

The brunette grimaced against the bed. 

The jarring movement reverberated through the length of his body, forcefully pressing him into the sheets without reserve. His eyes screwed shut and his fingers curled tightly in the wrinkles of the sheets. He didn’t even bother to pretend anymore, and he figured that was the saddest part. 

He used to at least try to muster up some embarrassingly fake lewd noises and shift in a way that could possibly be taken for something associated with pleasure. Now he didn’t even bother with that much. 

What a grim reality. 

What a thing this had all become. 

He was shaken from the confines of his own head when a thick palm wrapped around the back of his neck. A big thumb squeezed against the side of his windpipe in a way that was possessive and aggressive. He huffed against the bed and hid his eyes against the billowing material. 

The heavy body behind him rutted against his backside roughly, each thrust animalistic in nature and not taking Rhys’ pleasure into concern. It was too hard, he hadn’t applied enough lube. The young man could feel the rawness each time his partner fucked into him, the tight ring of muscle red and angry. 

He grit his teeth together to keep any unwanted sounds from slipping forth, swallowing them all back with great effort. 

The hand at his neck relieved the pressure and found a new hold on the round of his pert little ass. The crack of a palm against skin startled him and the flesh was left to smart and tingle with the rough treatment. 

There were lips pressed against his ear then, wet and warm, tepid breath pouring down the side of his slender cheek. 

A series of pet names slipped from those snakelike lips, names that used to send chills down his spine and go straight to his cock. But now the names are hollow, empty things that he knows are just uttered out of old habit. Now the names just caused his skin to crawl as if worms had found their way beneath the top layer. A nest of worms that grew and festered until they traveled through his every blood vessel and made home in the pit of his gut. Now they were rustling with energy, awoken by the stressful thing that was raining down upon him. 

They fed off his anxiety. 

They lived for it. 

Disgusting little things. 

Yet he wasn’t so far off from them really.

Disgusting worms for a disgusting host. 

The voice in his ear was low and gravely as it asked him if he liked it. 

He doesn’t but he nods. 

It’s not against his will, not really. 

He wasn’t forced into this situation. 

In fact there was a time when he’d liked such a thing, where he’d lusted after such an act. 

It was more about just no longer having the time or the drive for it, as if it had become a burdensome act in every sense of the word. 

It was a chore.

Like taking out the trash.

Rhys screwed his eyes shut. 

He’d just compared his sex life to taking out garbage...Pathetic. 

There’s more thrusting, this time harder and more pointed. The voice is strained and guttural. It sounds something like a bull elephant as it assaults the young man’s eardrums. The sloppy way in which he fucks lets the Rhys know he’s close. 

Good. 

It’s almost over. 

The amber haired man could feel the sweat from his partner. It dripped onto his skin and ran lazily down his back. His throat tightened with absolute repugnance. 

The big fingers tighten on his hip bones, mean and stern. Hips shove against his backside and stutter forward and he can feel his counterpart’s cock flex as he spills into the lanky young man’s core. It’s a wet sensation that leaves him feeling pleased only in the fact that it’s done now. That he can get on with his night. 

The man behind him patted his ass a couple of times and chuckled lowly. 

The bigger man pulled from the confines of his younger partner with a great sigh. A heavy expel of breath that came only after the satisfaction of orgasm. 

He was never this pleased with Rhys any other time of the day. 

Rhys could feel a damp sensation running down the back of his slender leg, the abrupt feeling of emptiness overcoming him. 

The mattress beneath the brunette shook slightly as the other man dropped his weight down on the other side of the bed. 

Rhys shoved himself up out of his awkward, demeaning position onto shaking elbows, like a newborn calf right out of the womb. He blinked several times, bleary eyes taking in the headboard inches from his brow. His motions were slow...As if he was coming alive again after so many minutes or feeling so very dead. Life soaks slowly back into his pores, muscles willing to move once more. 

He pressed his bare feet against the wood flooring. 

It's cold. 

Like the insides of his chest cavity. 

His eyes didn't even wander over to his partner. Because looking at him made the young man accept this reality. If he kept his gaze averted...Part of it wasn't real. Even if it was a very small fraction.

There were no words between the two men. There really wasn't a lot to say. The older man used to ask if Rhys had finished or not, but that had faded just like everything else in the failing relationship they upheld. Now he just didn't seem to care either way.

He'd finished and that was the important aspect of it all. Anything beyond that was of little concern to him. 

Rhys hauled himself off the bed, feeling sweat soaked and deflated. His feet were like lead as he forced them into motion. 

He needed a shower and a drink. 

Before he'd managed to make it even halfway across the grand space of the bedroom a gruff voice behind his back stopped him.

“Got an early morning meeting tomorrow. Go use the guest shower I need to sleep, and I can't with that damned thing running.” 

Rhys bristled internally but outwardly simply changed his direction and made his way to the door. 

“That’s my good boy. Thanks cupcake.” Jack snarled from beneath the unshapely mass of bedding. 

It wasn't a genuine thank you. It was more taunting than anything. Especially with that snide little tone of his. Because he knew Rhys wouldn't argue. He never did. Simply did as he was told. 

Rhys didn't have the energy to argue anyway. 

His fingers slid across the doorframe as he left, taking account of the familiar way the wood felt. 

Good boy.

Like a dog. 

A pet that has been granted the privilege of living here.  

His feet were a steady rhythm against the flooring beneath him, bare heels thudding against perfectly stained boards. 

His fingers fumbled for the light switch, throwing the large bathroom into brilliant light as he entered it's confines and locked the door behind him.

With a click of the little mechanism he was locking everything out, the crumbling state of his relationship, the dark feelings of sadness that would not shake and the inability to escape it all. 

This was as close as he could get. 

He'd lose himself in the massive spans of this shared home and avoid all of the ugly monsters that he didn't want to deal with. 

He knew he couldn't sweep them under the rug forever. Eventually he was going to run out of carpeting to hide the nasty things. But until that day came, he continued to avoid them. 

His long fingers turned the silver knobs, the pristine showerhead depositing a steady stream of water that ran in quick rivers down his slender form. His eyes closed and he allowed the waters comforting warmth to swallow him whole. 

He stared at the white tile before him.

He had to stop doing this. 

He had to stop letting this happen. Sex wasn't meant to leave such a hollow feeling behind. It was supposed to feed that hungry need and yet now all it was good for was leaving holes. 

It was hard to want something like that with the way their relationship had deteriorated. Where there were once frantic kisses there were barely even brushes of hands. 

Jack was gone so often, off on his mission to build Hyperion into a lavish empire. Hyperion was flourishing of course...But the two of them had suffered because of it. Jack loved his company more than Rhys anymore. 

Rhys had just become an inconvenience.  

He was in the way. 

His need for attention often seemed to annoy Jack. Even so much as a simple text asking when he was coming home from the office often ended with harsh words and raised voices. 

Rhys had tried so hard. Nobody could claim that he hadn't. 

Because he remembered what it was like when there was real love here. 

Rhys’ fist balled at his side. 

The recollection was painful as it ripped through him. They'd been so happy at one time. Even if that seemed outlandish now, Rhys knew it had been real back then. The love had been genuine and warm. 

He would never really know what happened to that Jack he'd fallen for years ago...But he wasn't here anymore. That Jack had long since vanished. 

The Jack that had been there on their wedding day was dead. He'd curled up and died and there was nothing left but this...Creature. 

Now there was only the Jack that belittled Rhys. Now there was only the Jack that didn't have time for Rhys.

Now there was only the Jack that no matter how much Rhys didn't want to admit it...He was afraid of. 

He suddenly felt indescribably dirty. 

He did his best to scrub away the filthy feeling that clung to his skin, rasping the sponge over his flesh until it was red and raw. 

He grit his teeth up as he flung the sponge blindly, anger rising like bile in his throat. He senselessly threw a punch into the wall, his knuckles aching instantly with the impact. The rage sent his fist into the tile again, no matter how badly it hurt. 

After several more senseless assaults to the wall he sunk down to the shower floor in a defeated heap, knuckles bloody and stomach tightening as rattling sobs tore through him. 

What had he let them become? 

Strangers that simply existed in each other's world. Just passing acquaintances that shared a roof over their heads. 

 


	2. Letting Little Plants Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought Rhys owning a flower shop/nursery would be really cute and I couldn't resist adding it to this story. Also poor  
> Rhys I'm going to be extra mean to him because I'm a fucking monster. Sorry ahead of time ;3;

Rhys’ eyes stirred beneath heavy lids, his body rousing unwillingly from the slumber he so wanted to hold onto, even if just for a few more seconds. His eyes opened slowly, immediately squinting closed when he was met with the sharp sunrays creeping through the living room blinds. It was only then that his sluggish brain began to really assess his surroundings.

He blinked several times, trying to gather his bearings weakly as his human fingers slid over the cold leather of the couch he was sprawled across. His lengthy body was draped over the large furniture in a less than graceful fashion. He felt like a crumpled blanket simply tossed there and forgotten.

His bleary line of sight followed the couch cushions down to the floor, to the empty bottle of wine lying on its’ side, a small puddle of crimson liquid having pooled on the wood lazily.

Rhys drew in a long breath and expelled it in the form of the saddest of sighs.

He couldn’t even remember at which point he’d ventured into the kitchen, back to his stash of alcohol and decided to drown his emotions in the sweet wine. The quicker he smothered them, the quicker he could get back to pretending everything was fine.

The last thing he recalled was his knuckles colliding with expensive tile.

He forced his body into a sitting position despite its protests. The motion was made awkward with his lone arm, his prosthetic still quietly perched in its charging port at his bedside. He turned his hand over slowly, observing the split skin and dried blood, his mouth tight and displeased.

What a mess he’d made of himself.

At least he could glue himself back together in the comfort of his solitude.

As the thought crossed through his mind, it was only then that he became painfully aware of the set of eyes burning into the back of his head.

Rhys’ throat clenched and his heart instantly began to thud against his chest.

“Didn’t quite make it back to bed didya kiddo?”

The words were a low snarl as they licked at Rhys’ ears.

He swung his head around to address where the sound came from and collided with Jack’s hard, venomous gaze. The older man’s eyes did a slow sweep over his partner; nose crinkling in what Rhys assumed was a type of displeasure or disgust. Rhys was aware he most likely wasn’t the prettiest of sights. He felt like he’d just crawled out of the ground, half alive, half aware of the world around him.

Rhys said nothing.

He had hoped Jack would be long gone to whatever meeting called for his attendance…but he supposed he wasn’t going to get that lucky on a morning such as this.

Instead his shame was on full display for the other man.

But was it really shame at all? Rhys wasn’t sure anymore. He wasn’t really sorry for how he came across, for how it looked as he drug himself off the living room furniture and slowly reached down to collect the empty bottle at his feet.

He didn’t meet with Jack’s scrutinizing eyes as he made his slow journey to the kitchen. He deposited the tall bottle into the recycling bin with a loud clatter and simply paused there for a few moments.

“Didn’t think a little thing like you could hold your alcohol like that.” Jack said bluntly as he leaned on the kitchen island, cup of coffee in hand.

Rhys finally allowed his gaze to sweep over the broad man accompanying the space with him. Jack was already dressed in his work attire, slacks and a button down shirt, all pieced together with the addition of a jet black blazer. A deep ache sung through Rhys’ bones. The other man looked so painfully handsome as he stood there in the kitchen.

Rhys remembered mornings when they’d first bought this home.

He remembered getting up early just to make breakfast. He remembered Jack wolfing the food down even when the toast was slightly burnt and the bacon was a little too crispy. He remembered mornings where Jack was late because they’d become too caught up in one another right here in this very room. He remembered how Jack had plunked him down on the countertop, breathing heavy as he’d kissed up the auburn haired young man’s throat and coaxed the most embarrassingly vulnerable noises out of his lungs. He remembered helping Jack to right himself after they’d fucked so frantically on the marble, hands tugging hair, clothes and anything else they could get a hold of.

Now they kept a safe distance between each other and there was no breakfast.

There was only one empty bottle of wine and the smell of new coffee only made for one.

“Next thing I know you’ll be polishing off two and three bottles a night. Maybe I ought to start a savings account for just your drinking habits.” Jack hissed darkly as he took another long draw from the mug in his fingers.

Rhys did his best not to let the comment stir him.

He just stood there silently, his jaw tightening.

They’d had this argument before, many times over. Jack would ridicule Rhys’ drinking and Rhys would defend it for a while before ultimately giving in and giving up. Jack would win after some harsh words and a few slammed cabinet doors. Jack would always win. Because Rhys didn’t really care enough to keep the battle going. He was too tired.

Especially today, with his head throbbing from the wine and his shoulder aching from the odd way in which he’d slept on it.

“I’m not having this conversation with you again Jack. The bottle was half empty to begin with. I have a right to drink in my own home.” Rhys muttered quietly.

The bottle wasn’t half empty. Not even close, it had been full and fat and unopened.

But Rhys had become such good friends with little white lies, so what did it really matter.

Jack huffed heavily and rolled his heterochromatic eyes.

“Bullshit it was half empty. Half a bottle isn’t near enough to sate little Rhysie’s thirst. I’m not a fucking moron.” Jack snapped back.

Rhys slowly moved to fetch a clean glass from the high cabinets and popped the refrigerator door open, the bottles within clinking and chiming together with the movement. He needed something to wet his dry throat and settle his churning stomach. He deposited a healthy amount of orange juice into the glass and took several swallows.

Jack watched him, the corner of his lip twitching into a half snarl, half frown.

The broader man slammed his empty mug down and rounded the kitchen counter in two long strides. He pressed himself into the young man’s personal space, forcing Rhys backward until his hindquarters thudded against the utensil drawer.

Rhys twisted his head to the side, clutching his drink for dear life as the other man crowded him.

“What Rhysie, you enjoy going to bed with that bottle of wine more than you enjoy going to bed with me anymore? Is that it? Is all of this not good enough for you? I fuck you, I feed you and you would rather drink yourself stupid? That’s the thanks I get pumpkin?” Jack pressed his mouth to the shell of Rhys’ ear as he growled the heated words.

He was too close, his voice was too low and too dangerous.

Panic rose in Rhys’ esophagus, his heart going from a steady pace to a thundering rhythm in seconds. The fear was dark and familiar as it crept up from the very tips of his toes.

Rhys closed his eyes tightly. If he couldn’t see it maybe it wasn’t real. If he shut it out it couldn’t happen.

Jack’s fingers suddenly snapped to Rhys’ cheeks, gripping too tightly as he forced Rhys to look forward.

“Fucking look at me would you? I’d do anything for you and look at how ungrateful you are?” Jack hissed, his eyes flashing with an anger Rhys never liked to see.

It was a fire that once it got started could burn the both of them down to the ground.

Jack’s fingers dug into the flesh of his cheekbones mercilessly, it hurt. It  _ really  _ hurt.

“Jack stop…you’re hurting me.” Rhys managed to squeak.

Jack’s face fell and after a moment he shoved Rhys away a little less than gently.

Jack abandoned Rhys there, muttering indecipherable phrases beneath his breath, mostly about Rhys being useless and unappreciative along with a few curses and scoffs. His anger was then directed toward the mug sitting so innocently on the countertop. Jack grabbed the little thing in his large palm and hurled it across the room into the nearest wall. The fragile porcelain shattered upon impact and clattered to the floor with a series of loud, terrifying sounds that caused Rhys to flinch.

Jack cursed when he realized the mess he’d made and the fact that he didn’t have time to clean it.

He was late as it was.

Wilhelm was already waiting in front with the car.

He looked back to his frightened counterpart, as if to say something more, but finally decided it wasn’t even worth it.

He yanked his briefcase off the dining room table and loudly announced his leaving with heavy footsteps and the slam of the front door.

Rhys stood still as he listened to the car engine turn over. Rhys did not relax his shoulders until the sound of the vehicle faded away down the length of the busy street and was consumed within the rest of the traffic’s drone.

Rhys’ fingers trembled as they remained curled around his glass, his stomach suddenly too angry to even think about adding anything to it. He stumbled to the sink and quickly poured the contents of the cup down the drain, his palms gripping the countertop shakily.

What was left of the last night’s meal suddenly crept back up to greet him again. He lost his stomach contents in the belly of the sink, coughing and heaving loudly as his body shivered wildly. He spit uselessly, trying to rid his mouth of the awful taste of bile. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he hovered there, unsure if his stomach was done throwing a full on tantrum or not.

Only after a solid five minutes did he even dare to move.

He angrily turned on the faucet, washing away the evidence of his stomach’s surrender of its substances. He cupped his hands beneath the stream and splashed the fresh water over his face. There wasn’t any point in dwelling on the events that had taken place. It was just another day, just another argument.

Rhys absent mindedly reached up to touch where Jack had gripped him.

It wasn’t often that Jack put his hands on him like that. This had been a first.

Rhys shook his head.

He was just angry and overworked.

He hadn’t meant it.

Everything was fine.

He fetched a broom and dustpan and went about sweeping up the sad and broken little cup laying in pieces on the floor. He just wanted to be rid of the argument, he wanted to throw it away and forget it had ever happened, best to just dispose of it like he did everything else. He didn’t face his problems; he just kept burying them in the dumpster.

Rhys deposited the shattered pieces into the trashcan and shut the lid with a heavy thud.

There, now that would be the end of it.

He needed to go about his day anyway. He had to clean himself up and open his shop. He wouldn’t allow his wreck of a life to interfere with his most prized possession, the only thing he had left that really,  _ genuinely  _ gave him happiness. His nursery.

He’d had many dreams as a young, stupid man, but he had ensured that this one came into reality. It was a flourishing business, a sanctuary of green in an otherwise dreary city of concrete.

He combed his wild locks and brushed his teeth to rid his mouth of the vile aftertaste that lingered there. He gently plucked his cybernetic arm from its’ charging port and attached it with several small clicks.  __ The prosthetic came to life, the palm glowing and alerting him to its’ fully charged state.

With his other arm set into its rightful place he easily tugged a simple green collared shirt down over his head. His fingers yanked his blue jeans up slender hips and his eyes caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. It didn’t matter how nice his clothes were, they were not enough to hide the dark circles clinging to his sockets, or the sullen look hanging on his cheeks.

He sighed.

It didn’t matter.

He just needed to get to work, that would make him feel better.

He tugged a light jacket on over his shirt last minute and took his keys from the dish by the door.

The outside weather was gloomy but not frigid which was surprising for the time of year. Rhys couldn’t find it in himself to complain, he’d always been more of a fan of warmer temperatures.

The subway was packed full of people, people of all shapes with various agendas, some on their way to work, some on their way to get some early morning shopping accomplished. Rhys gripped the overhead handle gently, keeping himself upright and steady as the train came to an abrupt stop then was set in motion once more. He didn’t have to take the subway. Jack had driver’s that could have taken him to work. Jack had people for that. Jack had people for everything. But the morning commute made Rhys feel somewhat…normal. That was something he simply wouldn’t trade.

He enjoyed seeing the oddities on the train. He enjoyed the random performers and expecting mothers and elderly people. He liked the comfort of people surrounding his shoulders and the freedom to not feel like he had to hold everything together.

With one of Jack’s drivers if he even hinted that something was wrong, Jack would know.

In the comfort of strangers he didn’t have to be anything close to perfect. He could be just another lanky young man with a sad look on his face and wide pretty eyes.

His attention was captured as the automated voice announced his stop and he managed to squeeze through the full train and step onto the busy platform.

As he made it to the surface and rounded the first corner a weight seemed to fall off of his shoulders, it was always such a sight for sore eyes. The older building stood tall and strong, its bold sign hanging out front, displaying “The Neighborhood Nursery and Flowers” in bright red letters like the proud thing it was.

This old brick structure had become more of a home than the place that he returned to night and night again to rest his head. This building was his safe place, its old walls welcoming and warm. As Rhys approached he was instantly aware that the lights within had been switched on and a tug of the front door proved that it was indeed unlocked.

Rhys welcomed himself inside and scanned the front desk area.

“Gaige?” He called out loudly as he shucked his coat off his shoulders.

There were suddenly frantic footsteps coming from the back room and finally the familiar, quirky redhead popped out from the doorframe, already wearing a bright smile.

“Heya Rhys! Hope you don’t mind I went ahead and opened her up. Figured you missed your train or something.” She chimed as she skipped to the front desk and collected the stack of orders for the day.

“Whew I better get started on these flower arrangements if I want to get them delivered by noon.” She huffed as she turned on her heel and disappeared through the door once more.

Rhys smiled softly and went about turning on the open sign.

Gaige was a loyal worker, someone who loved plants nearly as much as he did. She was a boisterous thing, always cheery and always talking. Rhys liked her and he liked her spirit. She was attending the college just down the street and needed this job to keep herself afloat and Rhys was more than willing to oblige. She always worked hard and took care of the deliveries, which Rhys absolutely despised. He enjoyed working the front and helping walk in customers, and so they made the perfect team for the operation.

Rhys gathered a watering can and gently began giving the plants in the front window the attention they deserved.

“Hey there sweethearts, need a little drink huh? This will perk you right up.” Rhys whispered as he caressed the greenery carefully.

The young man occupied himself with rearranging the plant life, pruning the dead leaves and making sure they were all up to standard. Amongst their green leaves and bright flowers the rough morning he’d navigated was left behind. All that mattered was his personal little forest. In a city of brick and asphalt, plant life was hard to come by. He found refuge within their leaves and safety within their branches.

Rhys was drawn out of his own head when Gaige hollered out that she was headed out on deliveries. Rhys nodded and watched as the young woman headed out the front door and around the side of the building where they kept the delivery van.

Rhys slowly sauntered to the front desk and dropped his tired body down into the stool provided. He rested his chin in his metal palm and tipped his head to the side. Of course it was a slow day for walk ins. Not a lot of people really were looking to buy plants this time of year and especially on a Monday. Monday’s were always quiet. Rhys didn’t really mind honestly.

He still had a lingering headache and the silence was more than welcome.

He made himself turn to the computer and begin some paperwork he needed to get done, but his pace was slow and unhurried. He had all day and the last thing he wanted to do was head home sooner than he needed to.

His stomach dropped.

He shook his head.

He didn’t want to think about that. Not here, not at work, he refused to let the toxicity creep in and get a hold of him while he was in the comfort of his business.

He sighed heavily as his fingers clacked clumsily across the keyboard.

After an hour of attempting to enter data the young man eventually gave up and decided that there were hibiscus in the back that needed his attention far more than the computer did.

Rhys pressed his nose to the flowering plant and inhaled deeply, a smile breaking out over his slender lips. Flowers were such beautiful, delicate little things. So colorful and perfect and in need of such specific care. He was here for them, to keep them healthy and happy. He was their protector.

And he took such pride in that.

Rhys was in the middle of plucking withered leaves from his precious flowers when he heard the bell on the front door of the shop chime, signaling that he had company.

It couldn’t have been Gaige, she was fast with her deliveries, but not  _ that  _ fast.

Rhys grabbed a towel off the counter to his left and wiped his hands thoughtfully as he made his entrance to the front counter.

Rhys’ eyes scanned over the shop, eventually resting on the space’s newest occupant. The auburn haired man furrowed his brows together. The big man allowed the front door to close behind him and gently adjusted the front of his suit jacket. He looked painfully out of place in such a quaint little shop, his attire giving even Jack, who was never seen in anything less than the most exquisite of outfits, a run for his money. From the man’s polished dress shoes to his red patterned tie he looked like he’d walked right out of some business monthly magazine.

Maybe he was lost, Rhys thought grimly.

“Hi there, anything I can help you with?” Rhys asked as politely as possible.

And then the man turned.

Rhys felt all the color drain right out of his face, his fingers clenching on the small towel he had in hand. Bright, outstanding green eyes collided with his mismatched brown and blue and it was like all the air had been stolen right out of the breadth of his lungs. The moment hung heavy between the two men, draping over them like thick molasses.

The big man’s nose scrunched for a moment as he processed it all and after a few short seconds a bright, brilliant smile broke out over his square features.

“ _ Rhys?”  _ The man chuckled, the word half a question and half a statement.

Rhys swallowed hard as he tried to will himself to come forth with some sort of words, but he was failing miserably.

The man moseyed toward the desk, it being the only thing keeping him and the young man apart for the time being.

That walk, that cocky lopsided smile, that sweet expression that was both playful and interested at the same time. Rhys would know those features  _ anywhere. _

“A-Axton?” Rhys managed to croak out, the words coming forth confused and bewildered.

The blonde rested his massive elbow on the countertop and cocked his head to the side, his amused grin never leaving his face, only growing wider with every passing second. Rhys would have been unnerved by it if it wasn’t so goddamned  _ genuine. _

Axton shook his head quickly, as if in disbelief that such a thing of happenstance could ever occur. It had been  _ years  _ since his two eyes had rested on that pretty, slender face. The young man had changed of course, but Axton would know him anywhere. At one point in time he’d known every single dip and curve of the brunette like the back of his own hand. He’d been so familiar with his every feature that it had felt like second nature. He was out of practice of course, but that didn’t change the instantaneous recognition.

“Well I’ll be  _ damned _ , never woulda thought I’d run into you here of all places!” Axton boomed as he pushed himself back off the counter and folded his big arms across his wide chest.

Rhys’ pupils darted over the breadth of the other man, trying to soak in his every detail without staring for too long. He’d never thought it possible for the man to be any  _ bigger  _ than when Rhys had known him so long ago but he was proved viciously wrong as his eyes dragged over the blonde’s bulging biceps, the clothing struggling against the width of him.

“I-uh…jeez…what a coincidence this is…” Rhys laughed nervously as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

Rhys opened his mouth to say more, stopped, reassessed and tried again.

“What are you doing in Opportunity?” Rhys said finally, cocking his head in bewilderment.

Axton chuckled and tugged on his tie.

“Finally made it outta law school. Landed a comfy little position at a firm here, so I uprooted and well here I am.” He grinned lightly.

Rhys smiled, the display still just as surprised but slightly more comfortable.

“The man who said he’d never move to the city…moved to the city. What a thing.” Rhys teased.

Axton shrugged nonchalantly.

“What can I say? I’m a brand new man.” He joked thrusting his arms out cheekily.

Rhys rolled his eyes.

“Never dreamt I would ever see you in business attire that’s for sure.” Rhys chortled.

Axton joined in his laughter.

“You and me both Bambi.” Axton said as he buried his meaty palms in the cradles of his pockets.

Rhys stopped dead, his pulse throbbing in his ears like an offbeat drum.

It had been so fucking long since that name had kissed his sensitive hearing. It caressed his senses like a long lost lover and settled heavy in the pit of his heart. It stirred everything that had lain dormant from years past. It instantly brought a pink hue to the rounds of his cheeks.

He remembered the pet name like it was yesterday.

He could recall how warm Axton had felt pressed too tightly to his nude form. He remembered how big Axton’s palms had been as they’d stroked over Rhys’ pale flesh. Both of them worn and tired from a frantic display of affection, Axton’s cock still buried in Rhys, not wanting to disconnect the moment, not just yet. Instead they’d lain like that across Axton’s full-sized bed, their lips meeting occasionally, Axton’s body brawny and large against him. He remembered Axton humming in his ear, satisfied and absolutely enthralled with the curves of Rhys’ body.

“You’re all legs you know that darlin’? Like Bambi.” Axton had grinned against Rhys’ chin.

It was so stupid at the time, the two of them high on each other’s presence and the joint they’d smoked before tumbling into Axton’s sheets. But Rhys could remember how long they’d laid there laughing at the absurdity of it all and instantly the stupid name had grown on him. He’d been Bambi from then on.

If only Axton knew how very frail and fragile his little Bambi had become. Skittish and ready to run at the slightest sense of danger, just like the little deer he was. And he’d fallen for quite the wolf.

The smile fell from Rhys’ lips and instantly the other man picked up on the change.

“Shit, sorry, old habits die hard I guess.” Axton said awkwardly.

Rhys shook his head.

“No harm done.” Rhys forced the smile back to his lips.

“So…what brings you in? Looking to get some flowers for that special someone?” Rhys tried to tease.

The thought turned Rhys’ stomach. Of course Axton would have moved on, it had been so many years since the last time Rhys had seen the other man. Rhys had done so. So he was conflicted by the taste such a thought left on his tongue. Axton happily married, maybe a couple of kids, it choked the breath right out of Rhys.

Why in hell’s name did he even feel like that?

Maybe because he knew he’d made a mistake all that time ago…

Axton just laughed at the comment.

“Naw. Nothing like that. Afraid this old dog is real good at runnin potential relationships off. Seems to be my specialty.” Axton chuckled dismissively.

“Just figured I needed a little greenery to liven up the new place. Something kinda hard to kill, I don’t exactly have a green thumb.”

Rhys felt oddly relieved by the knowledge that Axton wasn’t serious with anybody. Not that it mattered. Rhys was married. That was the end of it.

So why did it matter?

Why were all these thoughts buzzing behind his eyes?

Rhys chuckled.

“I’ve got just the thing.”

Thirty minutes later Rhys had the blonde man set up with two Peace Lilies, one ficus, and several small succulents, all of them proudly set upon the checkout counter. The two men were caught in laughter, as if there had not been so much time between them, like nothing had changed. Rhys found himself childishly hanging on Axton’s every word, smiling big and open and unafraid.

Axton took hold of his paper sacks, pausing there at the counter, as if there was one more thing to be said before he took his leave.

“You got a pen?” He suddenly asked.

Rhys nodded slowly and handed the other man the utensil. Axton scribbled something on the back his paper receipt and ripped the small thing in half.

He gently handed the little piece of paper to the other man.

“It’s my number…just in case you want to get together or something.” Axton whispered, his green eyes full of something that was far too vulnerable.

Rhys nodded stupidly, words refusing to aid his silence.

Smiles were exchanged, the slow, timid kind. The kind that belonged to two men that had once been the most star struck of lovers. Two men that had for some reason just entered one another’s lives once more, thrust together like some strange game to be played by the fates.

And with the tinkling of the front door’s little bell, Axton was gone.

Rhys could have sworn the man looked over his shoulder several times before finally hailing a cab and climbing into the rumbling vehicle.

Rhys was left standing there, clutching the torn receipt as if for fear that the moment he loosened his grip the thing might crumble away.


	3. Drowning in Navy Sheets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off thank you all for the nice feedback on this story!! Axton/Rhys is so near and dear to my heart so I get really excited when people enjoy it as much as I do XD

**Eight Years Previous:**

The young man lay on the plain of his back, eyes half-lidded and arms tucked tightly into points above his head. His lazy eyes followed the slow pattern of the fan blades above his head, the gentle ‘ _ swoop’  _ each time one passed over him falling softly on his ears. He breathed in deep, lungs filling with much needed oxygen and expelling through flared nostrils. What a lovely evening to be here, in this moment so small and insignificant and wonderful. It was a welcome reprieve from the hellacious rush that had been the week previous. Final grades were posted, he’d passed with flying colors and all A’s of course, he would expect nothing less of himself. There was finally time to breathe and drag his nose out of the pages of his precious textbooks. He got to take a long minute to re-enter reality and enjoy existing in a place that wasn’t the campus library.

His ill-assorted eyes dragged across the expanse of the room around him.

It was a room that didn’t belong to him. It was familiar all the same, yet vastly different from his spick and spam apartment on the other side of campus that he shared with his best friend. The wooden floors were far older, clothing scattered across the boards and whether they were clean or dirty was really anybody’s guess. The windows behind the lanky young man were wide and tall, with their ugly yellow curtains drawn back tight to allow the outside world a glance inside. The setting sun sent dustings of orange and yellow dancing across the vast room in delicate sheets. His apartment had sections, a perfect cookie cutter housing unit provided by the college. The space here was just one large room with only a separate bathroom.

This place had character. This place wasn't built by campus money. This place had been here long before the college came into existence and it's age showed in the way the roof leaked sometimes and the pipes rattled and groaned when the cold set in. 

Its’ walls were covered in random posters and framed artwork, none of them level, nor had any of them been dusted in what seemed like ages. It smelled faintly like the good kind of weed, and the better kind of incense to feebly mask the first scent.

But this place was good. It was warm and inviting in the way that only a loft occupied by a college student could be.

A small smile found home across his slender lips.

Even though the floors in his apartment were never so much touched by a dirty pair of socks, he didn’t mind it here. Here was different and he appreciated all the little quirks about it.

Here was a different kind of beast, much like it's occupant. 

The lanky young man stretched backward with a low sound, hands reaching far above his head and tangling in rumpled navy sheets. He nestled his nose in the soft material, taking in the scent of them. They smelled like cologne and the cheap shampoo from the corner store in walking distance from the building. They smelled like  _ him. _

_ Him  _ with the bright eyes and the cheeky smile. 

_ Him  _ with the broad shoulders and the tattoo on his ass of a four leaf clover that had been a drunken spring break mistake. 

_ Him  _ that laughed from deep down in his belly and liked the dark beer that nobody else did. 

_ Him  _ with the soft kisses and good humor. 

Rhys blinked nice and slow as he was alerted to the sound of bare feet slapping against the old floorboards. There was the creak and groan from the noisy boards as heavy weight passed over them. The mattress dipped as a knee was pressed into it, followed by the mass of a much bigger body following close behind.

And instantly there were warm lips pressed into the arch of his soft neck, a hungry mouth dragging painstakingly slow kisses along the length of his pulse, which was rising by the second.

_ Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump… _

He could hear the strong drum of his heart in the hollows of his ears, the thing racing away without his consent.

He could feel two day old stubble scrape across the buttery surface of his jaw, the sensation causing all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

He sucked in a sharp, windy breath that whooshed through his teeth.

His eyes fluttered closed, lids kissing together as he blocked everything else out. All that mattered in that moment was the way the other man’s large palms felt against his tender skin. Such big hands weren’t meant to handle things with such ridiculous care. But they touched nice and tender, thumbs squeezing the dips of the amber haired man’s thin hipbones.

Teeth ventured to the lobe of Rhys’ ear, gently pinching the susceptible skin between them, successfully dragging an embarrassing noise out of the young man’s throat. It was a needy, breathy sound that was somewhere between a moan and whine. It gained him a smile from his partner. He couldn’t actually see the action, but he could  _ feel  _ it. He could feel how the sandy haired man was grinning wide and open, pleased by the vulnerable noise that was all for him.

“You need another beer Bambi?”

Rhys’ eyes parted at the question, cheeks rosy red and breath shallow.

He looked to the bedside table housing his empty beer bottle, the sun reflecting through the dark brown glass in petite slivers.

Rhys hung his slender arms around the other man’s neck in lazy loops.

“I do…but I don’t want you to get up.” Rhys purred as he craned his neck and got his mouth on Axton’s collarbone.

The bigger man’s laugh was deep and genuine.

“I’ll be back in two seconds darlin’.” He chuckled as he moved his grip to the tops of Rhys’ thighs.

“That’s two seconds too long.” Rhys replied coyly.

“Oh is it now?” Axton grinned.

“Yeah it is.” Rhys quipped in a playfully argumentative fashion.

“Gettin’ bossy there aren’t you sweetheart?” Axton sniggered as he nipped at the slighter man’s neck.

Rhys only hummed in response.

“Is it cause you haven’t been properly fucked in over a week?” Axton teased meanly, his body crowding Rhys’ to the mattress.

Rhys’ mouth broke in a sly smile.

“You might be onto something there big guy.” Rhys whispered.

“Well maybe you shoulda spent less time buried in those books and more time buried in my sheets huh Bambi?” Axton chuckled.

“Right and just fail all my exams too?” Rhys scoffed with a roll of his pretty eyes.

The bigger man grinned widely. 

“You could pass any exam they slap in front of you with your damned eyes closed.” Axton cooed softly. 

Rhys crooned his neck back, eyes mere cheeky slits, an amused chuckled finding its way through his smile.

“Tell me more stud.” Rhys purred as he rubbed his foot against the length of his partner’s thigh.

Axton snorted.

“Mmm what do you wanna hear Bambi? You wanna hear about how smart you are? How fucking gorgeous you are? How cute you are when you wake up in the morning and curl in on yourself like some lazy housecat. You wanna hear about how hot you look sprawled across my couch with nothing but your little boxers on? That what you wanna hear pretty boy?” Axton husked heavily against the other man's ear. 

Rhys clenched his teeth together and walked his fingers down the length of Axton’s shoulder blades. 

“You always know just the right words to say.” Rhys sniggered softly. 

“I have gotten exceptionally good at stroking that ego of yours’.” Axton whispered, his lips finding home on the young man’s. 

The sandy haired man kissed slow and heavy. 

The way old lovers might take part in the action.

Rhys wouldn't consider them old lovers. They had come across each other freshman year.

They were only months old lovers. 

New and fresh and beautiful. 

Rhys had been a bright eyed, bushy tailed little thing and Axton had been a wild frat boy. 

Their eyes had locked across the bustling room of people, the atmosphere dark and smokey. Rhys had been unsure about the party at first. He'd been practically dragged there by Sasha upon the insistence that this was always the “party of the year”. Rhys supposed wild nights involving frat houses and alcohol just came with the college territory. He was a big boy now, with his red Solo cup in hand and a beer induced red hue to his cheeks.  

In that very fraction of a second he was no longer unsure about coming to the beginning of the year bash. 

The lights had been low but the flash in their pupils sparked across worlds. 

They had ended up in a back bedroom, not knowing who it belonged to, with the door locked and their hands all over each other. 

Rhys would never forget how the man had tasted. Like dark beer and bad intentions. 

But he'd been gentle and Rhys smiled as he recalled just how many times Axton had asked him if it was OK. 

Rhys had felt his nerves in his throat and chickened out at the last minute. He remembered how Axton had smiled in understanding and sat on the bed with him instead, talking of the classes they were taking that semester. 

What a stupid thing for such big brute of a man to be so soft hearted. 

But he'd grown to know that was just Axton's nature. 

Rhys eyes rolled open as their lips parted. 

Axton's fingers buried beneath the hem of the pajamas slung low on Rhys’ hips. Pajama bottoms that were several sizes too big for his slender waist. Too big because they were borrowed from Axton's top drawer. 

The young man wore them better anyway. 

Baggy, black and red plaid printed material worn thin with age, pooling in neat folds around the creases of Rhys’ thighs. 

He wore them like they belonged to him.

Just as he did everything. 

He draped himself in whatever he pleased...such a graceful, lithe little thing. 

And goddamn was he ever gorgeous. 

He was grace and intelligence and confidence and he wore all of those aspects like gold lace. 

Axton smiled against Rhys’ lips. 

“You are something else you know that Bambi?” He whispered as he tucked a wave of amber locks behind his younger partner's ear. 

Rhys sighed and arched up into Axton's body. 

“Enough sweet talk. Can you fuck me already?” Rhys huffed playfully. 

“No need to ask twice darlin’.” Axton replied breathlessly. 

The bed springs creaked and protested the sudden movement from the tangle of bodies atop the old mattress. Some old thing that had been given to Axton for free when a friend was moving dorms. 

The little full-sized bed had seen its’ fair share of sweaty bodies and drunken one night stands. It had seen awkward morning afters and the many beginnings of walks of shame. It had listened to secrets and heard all the little whispers between the sheets late at night. 

But it wasn't one to share such stories. 

Those late night tales stayed safely tucked between it layers of padding. 

Just like this night would be. 

Rhys’ fingers balled in sheets that had been ripped right off the corner of the mattress and tangled in white knuckles. His sinewy legs hung around strong, powerful hips as his ankles locked at his lover’s lower back. 

Rhys' voice was loud as it bounded from wall to wall. 

His cries of utter ecstasy carried obscenities and proud declarations of Axton’s name. Each breath was hot and heavier than the last. Each touch was rougher and more desperate. 

They were are the end of such a primal, raw, vicious act of passion. Stomachs coiled tight, eyes rolling backward, teeth grit, fingernails scraping and moans unbridled. 

Axton's fist was around Rhys’ cock, big and calloused and lathered with what could have been a combination of saliva and lube. Either way it was slick and sloppy and everything Rhys wanted. 

Each stroke sounded wet and obscene and the feeling of those massive fingers stroking over his swollen head sent fire through his spine. 

His brain couldn't grab at any one thought, it could only desperately process torn tidbits of things. Like how Axton's breathing was a ragged thing coming from deep down in his chest. Or how the man's brilliant forest eyes were now hiding behind half lids. Or how his bottom lip was buried just slightly between his stupidly perfect teeth. It was a look of concentration. 

Rhys knew it all too well. 

That was the look of Axton focusing on anything but coming. Because he never liked to finish before Rhys did. He wanted to watch the amber locked beauty come undone first. 

Rhys vaulted and let go of a pitiful moan. 

“ _ I’m so close…” _

The words dribbled off his puffy lips like molasses. 

Axton's hips pumped into his own, cock fat and heavy in all of the right ways. 

Their breaths were heavy, their bodies moving demandingly against one another and at the peak of it all Rhys spilled his finish over wide knuckles and his own heaving stomach. 

White and sticky and unashamed. 

He rode out his finish in Axton’s grip, relishing in the way his lover so closely chased his own orgasm. 

Axton's hands dragged him closer, burying himself in the young man's tightness, groaning into Rhys’ hair. What a sound that was. Like all the air had been punched right out of the behemoth man’s lungs. 

The sensation of him finishing inside Rhys had the young man shivering.

It was warm and wet, his partner’s erection flexing and throbbing as he finished hard. 

The young man pressed down against his lover's cock, getting a strained hiss out of Axton in return. 

“Oh god Rhys…” Axton managed to growl. 

Rhys kissed the other man's shoulder. 

It was rare the other man called him by his real name. To Axton, Rhys was “darlin”, “Bambi" or “sweetheart” just to list a few of the endearing nicknames. Only here, in a moment like this, did it call for Axton to breathe his proper name. 

It had Rhys’ heart swelling like a newly filled balloon. 

Coming down from the high of it all was like sinking into warm bathwater. It was the easy kind of drowning that was welcome. Drowning in blue sheets and thick arms and pleased kisses. 

After a shower, some oven baked pizza and a few more beers Axton's bed became a safe haven for tired, slightly drunk bodies. 

Rhys was tucked comfortably against the mass of his partner, the sheets smelling like sex and dirty secrets. 

The night had been cold, the old heater struggling and grunting as it had tried to keep up. But beneath layers of comforters and a tangle of bodies there had been nothing but warmth. Axton's soft snoring and the faint glow from the streetlights below had lulled him into slumber. 

The hard kind of slumber. 

The kind that comes like a new lover and does you right in every aspect of the word. 

**Present Day:**

Rhys’ gaze was wide and blank as he stared out the train windows, watching the scenery flash by in fuzzy fractions of information. People going about their lives, umbrellas propped open to protect them from the drizzling rainfall. Dark clouds had lulled into the great city, crowding against the tops of the massive sky rises in ominous billows.

The man took in a slow breath.

His eyes reluctantly drifted toward the one skyscraper he knew all too well.

Imposing, bold letters settled high at the very peak of the structure. Gold and illuminated like some sort of beacon through the grey skies.

_ Hyperion. _

Rhys dropped his gaze.

It had become a name that left an awful taste on the top of his tongue.

At one time that name had brought hope and excitement to his household. But like everything else it had slowly transformed into an ugly thing. Warping and twisting until it had made a monster of itself.

That company, that big, pretty building…was more important to Jack than anything else in this world.

Rhys just couldn’t compare.

He could feel the tightness in his chest climbing and clawing up the length of his throat.

He screwed his lids closed.

He refused to be that poor sap crying on the train.

Not today.

His fingers slowly traveled into the warmth of his coat pocket, bare digits gently finding the neatly folded piece of paper there. He plucked the small object free and unfolded it for the umpteenth time since it was given so generously to him.

His pupils traced over the neatly written numbers scrawled across the torn receipt.

Axton had always had such stupidly neat handwriting.

The thought almost brought a smile to the amber haired man’s lips… _ almost _ .

And then back into his pocket it went, keeping it safe, keeping it protected.

His fingers ran across the smooth paper one more time just for good measure.

The rest of his commute home was overtaken by thoughts of the day, thoughts of the strange encounter. His head was filled with the sound of the sandy haired man's voice, how kind and jovial it had been. He lingered on the way those emerald irises has soaked him in like he was something truly interesting to behold. 

Rhys couldn't remember the last time Jack had looked at him like that…

Rhys was shaken from his thoughts as he approached his very own front door. His fingers had already dug his keys from his pocket out of habit. 

And here he was, facing the beast that was his home. Facing the thing he'd run from this morning. 

This place didn't feel like a home. 

This place was just a war-torn skeleton of what was once considered one, but it wasn't anymore. 

And the battles were wearing him thin. He was bleeding and bruised and the fight was seeming less and less worth his time. He was losing, plain and simple. 

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he pressed the key into the front lock and turned it with a crisp  _ “click”.  _

The door yawned wide, the creak of hinges echoing through the front entryway. 

He closed it behind him loud enough to signal his arrival and yet he was only greeted with anxiety inducing silence throughout the vast home. 

His footsteps were slow as he made his way through the grand front room and slowly ventured to the empty kitchen. Nothing seemed to have been so much as touched. 

Every coaster, every dish, every book on the coffee table was just as he'd left it that morning. The young man wandered to the calendar hanging by the large silver refrigerator and slid his finger across the dates until he got to the present day. 

Marked in red sharpie, scrawled across a full week were the words  _ “business trip to Pandora”.  _

All the breath left Rhys’ lungs in one relieved  _ whoosh _ . 

He supposed that would be a battle for another day. A battle that might take place in a week, but that didn't matter in the now. For now he was safe with his peace and quiet. 

For a mere moment, the battleground was silent. 

  
  


The hour was late. Rhys had long since shed his daily clothes and opted for a soft robe that hugged around his curves gracefully. He was draped across the large living room couch like a luxurious throw blanket. 

His long fingers rocked his half full glass of chardonnay nice and slow, the crisp liquid sloshing back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. 

His eyes followed the translucent drink lazily. 

The warmth from the fire across the room licked at his exposed ankles and whispered sweet nothings to him softly. 

Rhys sighed heavily. 

In the moment alone, he was left with nothing but his drink...And his wandering mind. 

He let it go, let it travel on soft feet, let it roam back to the past. 

To a place he'd not let it go to for such a long time. That past he'd buried far in the soil because the old wounds were too deep. He'd bandaged them tight and sealed them shut. 

But here they were all opened again, oozing and fresh like he'd never dressed them at all. 

He closed his eyes. 

Why would he come back into his life? Why him, why now? After so many years, after Rhys had accepted the mistakes he'd made that had put him in the life he lived now...He'd made peace with it. But now...Now he couldn't stop hanging on the curve of the blonde’s lips, on the tenor of his voice, on the gate if his walk. 

He was just as handsome as the day Rhys had last seen him.

His throat clenched. 

He tried not to think of that day. He had pushed that memory to the back of his brain in hopes it would fade...But really it never had. 

He even remembered what the other man was wearing. 

Old blue jeans, a concert t-shirt, a watch that only worked occasionally but Axton still wore it because it was a gift from Rhys. 

He remembered the hurt washed over his face when Rhys had said all those awful things. Rhys was going places. He was graduating, and Axton wasn't even sure where he was going with his life. He was simply riding out his semesters aimlessly. Rhys had a job offer from a company in the city. Rhys was smart and young. Rhys was going to make a name for himself. 

Axton was dead weight. 

And Rhys left him behind. 

Rhys knocked back the rest of his drink. 

Oh how stupid he had been. 

He'd ran off to the city, ignoring the pain in Axton's heart as he'd walked out the front door.

And look at him now. 

He went to his city, he worked that grand job, he'd met the love of his life and now...Now it had all crumbled around him. 

This city was strangling the life out of him, he'd quit that fine job and his marriage was dying. 

Rhys cursed to himself and poured another glass. 

When everything else was shit, the alcohol was always here. The only consistently stable thing in his world. The alcohol was always good. The alcohol never judged him. It never betrayed him. 

And glass after glass until his head was fuzzy and faded...The alcohol cradled him. 

He regretted a lot of choices he'd made in his days alive...But the one he regretted most...Was never apologizing. 

His blurry vision flicked to the coffee table laid out before him. 

Sitting there unfolded and pretty was the little piece of paper. 

Rhys clicked his teeth on the side of his glass. 

That moment flashed across his eyes. The sadness in his eyes, the way Axton had looked...As if his world was falling in. Because it was. Rhys had been his world and his world was walking away. 

_ “Please don't do this Bambi.”  _

The words burned like open flames. 

Rhys reached across the couch and gently ran his thumb over the screen of his cellphone. 

It was late, he'd been drinking he shouldn't be calling his long lost ex. 

It was late, he'd been drinking...And he was going to do it anyway. 

He was sorry. He was so sorry. He needed to tell him, he needed to say it. 

He was so sorry. 

He was so very sorry. 

Before he could really comprehend what he was doing he had the paper in hand and his fingers were tapping across the keyboard. 

Number after number. 

The first ring echoed through Rhys’ eardrums. 

The second ring had his heart booming. 

The third had him considering hanging up all together. 

And then the line picked up. 

“Hello?” 

Rhys’ voice trapped in his throat and he swallowed a deep breath. 

“I uh- hey Axton...It's Rhys.” Rhys stuttered trying his best to keep from slurring his words. 

The guilt clawed at his lungs, driven by the drink and the sound of the other man's voice. What had he done? He'd ruined it all. So many years weren't enough time to forget. And this just brought it all right back around. It hurt, it burned, it killed him. 

“ _ Rhys?  _ Oh! Hey…” 

He sounded tired. He sounded confused. 

It was nearly one in the morning. It was obvious he hadn't had his hopes set on Rhys calling him so soon, or maybe even calling him  _ at all.  _

That tore his heart to ribbons. 

“Y-yeah it's -hic- me. I just...I know it's late...I'm sorry I just...I had to call...Shit...I probably woke you I'm -hic- sorry...” Rhys mumbled frantically. 

He was too drunk for this. 

This was a terrible idea. 

“Rhys. It's fine. I was up anyway. Had some paperwork to finish up.” 

Axton's voice was soft and patient and Rhys almost didn't know how to fully handle it. He was so used to Jack's sharp words and quick to annoy attitude. 

Rhys laughed nervously. 

“I just...I had to call you, I gotta -hic tell you something...I shoulda said it a long time ago...I'm so fucking stupid.” Rhys slurred sloppily his voice rising an octave pitifully. 

Sober Rhys would have never gone here. Drunk Rhys seemed to think it was necessary. It was hard to tell which one was in the right.  

“Slow down Rhys-” Axton started to say gently before he was cut off by Rhys’ shaky words. 

“I’m just...I'm so-hic- sorryyy. I'm a fucking moron. I'm sorry for the things I said, for how I-hic-treated you...You never deserved that…!!” Rhys said as the sobs bubbled up from his chest.

His life was in pieces. Here he was drinking alone, sobbing to a man he hardly knew anymore. 

“Rhys that was a long time ago.” Axton said flatly. 

It was apparent even the mention of it still hurt. 

It was also apparent that he'd figured out Rhys’ drunken state. 

Rhys felt panic flow through him. 

This was a terrible mistake. 

“I'm sorry I shouldn't have called...I'm sorry.” Rhys babbled. 

He frantically hit the end call button and flung his phone away from him as if it was some venomous snake. 

The young man curled up on the large couch, head hitting the cushioned arm and the tears came heavy.

Oh what had he done? 

 


	4. Dark Coffee

A tired body occupied the single barstool.

Slender hands cupped around the warm mug filled with dark coffee. He liked it black and bitter. He liked it sharp and thick. Adding fancy creamer flavored like vanilla and hazelnut or teaspoons of sugar was just stupid in his mind. That was only contorting the drink into something it wasn’t. It was still just coffee.

Strong and ebony.

When you sweetened it, you took something from it.

He took a slow sip of the hot liquid.

Jack had tried doing the same to him.

He’d been something great at one time…something strong.

But he’d been diluted until he was not even half of that.

Milk and sweets had been stirred in until his liquid was creamy and dulled. All his rich color was gone. All of that was long since passed.

Rhys blinked down into the drink, his reflection bouncing off the rippling surface, his facial features skewed and abstract.

He breathed out heavy and low.

There certainly wasn’t enough coffee in that cupboard to make him feel any less tired. The two cups he’d already had before this one were just a feeble attempt really…and partly a distraction. The longer he occupied himself in his drink, the longer he could ignore everything around him. The longer he could ignore his pounding headache that seared right between his eyes, the longer he could put off thinking about how his body ached from another night spent on the couch.

And the longer he could ignore the drunken call he’d allowed himself in the young hours of the morning.

His stomach dropped.

The memories of the night previous were soft and smudged in the house of his brain…but they were still there. He remembered the ridiculous way he’d slurred over the speaker of his phone. He remembered the guilty, sloppy sobs, and the babbling. He remembered the sound of Axton’s voice…the hurt that still lingered there when faced with the subject. Years couldn’t heal pain like that. They could make it fade, but they couldn’t cure it completely.

Rhys was embarrassed and ashamed of himself.

He’d let the alcohol get to him and he’d made a damned fool of himself.  

His phone lay innocently beside him as he leaned over the kitchen island. It blinked with several missed calls. Three exactly, all from a number he’d not yet saved to his contacts, but all the same he knew who it belonged to.

Rhys swallowed down more of the heavy liquid.

He didn’t want to deal with it all.

Not yet.

Not until he’d finished this cup of coffee.

He allowed his eyes to slide closed as he tapped his fingers on the side of the thick, ceramic mug that he’d bought when he and Jack had taken a cruise to Aquator. It had been a full week of sunshine and sandy beaches that didn’t even seem real. They were like photographs plucked off the shiny fronts of postcards. The place was all blue waters as far as the eye could see, stretching out or miles and miles. He’d gotten the silly little mug from a quaint little shop in town, from an older man that smiled too big, the corners of his eyes crinkling until you could barely see his tiny pupils.

It was just part of the memoirs from a different time when things were all so grand.

Now that life was slapped on one of those postcards somewhere, happy and stupid. It was a souvenir from a better place and that was all. 

Rhys tipped the cup to his lips, only to find it empty. He settled the little thing on the countertop with a sad sound and pushed it away from him.

And he sat there...Still for a moment, assessing the moment at hand. The clock on the wall ticked loyally, the dishwasher started into its cleaning cycle, the sound of a garbage truck rumbling down the street echoed through the neighborhood. 

He hadn't even bothered to put his own trashcan out for pickup, he remembered as he stared at the full bin beside the refrigerator. 

It didn't matter. 

None of it did. 

Rhys was shaken from his moment by his phone buzzing on the counter, vibrating against the marble loudly. 

The young man stared down at the illuminated screen. 

Part of him wished it were a sales call, or Wilhelm checking in on him by Jack's instructions. But it wasn't. 

It was the same number...Again. 

Rhys curled his cybernetic fingers around the little device...And reluctantly pressed the “answer call” button. 

“Hello…” Rhys whispered as he ran a hand through his hair slowly. 

“Rhys I've been calling all morning.” The other man's voice said sternly. 

Rhys paused. 

“I'm sorry...I just...didn't know what to say.” He admitted finally. 

There was a heavy sigh from Axton's end. 

“Yeah. Well I just wanted to make sure you were OK...Sounded like you'd been drinking pretty heavy. Needed to know you were safe.” 

“Are you OK?” Axton continued. 

Rhys pressed his palm to his forehead and pinched his lip between his teeth to stifle back tears. 

What a thing it was to rile genuine concern out of another being. What a thing it was to be asked such a simple phrase as “are you OK?” Rhys couldn't remember the last time he'd heard those words. He needed to hear them, more than anything else he needed that so badly. But nobody had the time to offer him such a kindness. 

Jack didn't, strangers on the train didn't. He was just another broken man with red tinged eyes and something deep down that was eating him alive. 

He needed so badly to be asked that. 

He wanted to answer truthfully. No, he wasn't ok.  He wasn't ok at all. He needed help, he needed a kind hand. 

But he dare not say it out loud. 

“I'm fine.” Rhys lied. 

“Axton I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have called you like that. I was a drunken mess and I'm so sorry.” 

There was a few moments of silence between them, then a crackle as Axton shifted his cellphone from one ear to the other. 

“It's ok Rhys. For what it's worth, drunk or not...I appreciated the apology.” Axton said finally. 

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“I'm just embarrassed. I haven't seen you in years and right out of the gates I'm making a fool of myself.” Rhys scoffed. 

Axton chuckled. 

But it was reserved. 

“No harm done, I promise.” Axton said and Rhys could hear the subtle smile in his voice. 

Axton let go of a heavy breath. 

“Ah shit I gotta get back to work...But...I know a little hole in the wall downtown. Buddy of mine owns it, might not be a looker but they have good music and a to die for burger. You wanna get dinner with me? I dunno...talk face to face? It's fine if you don't, but I figured I'd offer.” Axton said suddenly. 

Rhys swallowed thickly. 

He turned the offer over on his tongue several times. 

Was it a good idea? 

Most likely not…

“Yeah...yeah I'd like that a lot.” Rhys said finally. 

“I'll text you the address. Seven sound good?” 

“Seven sounds fine.” Rhys said with a small smile. 

“See ya then. Bye Rhys.” Axton replied.

And then the line went dead. 

Rhys buried his head in his hands.

What the fuck was he doing? 

Dinner with his ex? Dinner with the ex that he'd left heartbroken and torn? Rhys rubbed his temples feebly. 

It was just dinner. 

It wasn't like it was hurting anything to have dinner with an old friend. 

Rhys rose from his seated position and crossed the living room. His fingers drew back the blinds and he peered out into the cold world beyond the walls around him. Dead leaves tumbled lazily down the asphalt, scraping and crackling as they went. 

Axton wasn't an old friend. 

That was a bold faced lie. 

Rhys did a lot of lying to himself, but that was one thing he just could fib about. There wasn't a grand enough story that could convince him of that untruth. 

He and Axton had never been friends. 

They'd been lovers. 

The young kind that don't know what they are doing nor do they know themselves. The kind that are wild and reckless and treat love like something that isn't incredibly fragile. Those kinds of lovers are unapologetically passionate, feeling the world in a different way that wasn't easily explained. 

That kind of young relationship never ceases to bring some sort of feeling back into one’s bones. The exhilaration, the boldness, the thrill of it all. 

They were never friends then, so was it even possible for them to be friends now? 

Of course it was, Rhys convinced himself. 

Because he was in a relationship, he was married, and thus he and Axton would have to only be friends. 

That was the end of it. 

  
  
  


Axton’s shoes slapped the damp concrete in a steady pattern. His pace wasn’t hurried but it wasn’t relaxed either…it was just somewhere in between. His attire was casual, he’d hurried back to his near empty home after work and shucked off his suit and tie in favor of his jeans and a cotton tee. It felt only right considering the part of town he was venturing to. In this neck of the woods some big time lawyer wasn’t exactly a welcomed entity.

His big hands found warmth in the depths of his coat pockets as he pulled the material tighter to himself. The night was crisp, cold and damp. He should have been at home, where it was warm and protected from the outside world…but alas here he was on this stupid trek of his.

It was foolish really.

He knew that.

But it wasn’t the first stupid thing he’d ever done in his life and it damned sure wouldn't be the last.

His breath left his lips in a silver wisp.

Though the night was cold and the city was alive, just as it always was. It was breathing and teeming with activity. Cities never slept, not really anyway. That was one reason he’d never truly wanted to move to a place like this. A younger version of himself would be utterly confused with the choices he’d made. He’d never really been keen on the fast paced life that the city streets birthed. But here he was, finding himself becoming quite fond of the strange environment. He didn’t really mind the sounds of constant traffic, cabs zooming here and there at all hours of the day taking passengers on unknown destinations. He liked being able to pick up a hot meal on most any street corner without really walking very far from his home in the high end district. He liked the hustle of people on their way to work in the morning.

The splash of tires across black asphalt licked at his ears, shadows running through the streetlights like wild things.

There were no stars in the sky, nor any glow from the moon as it hid behind thick clouds.

A few blocks down he could hear the faint drone of music, something upbeat and peppy.

Why was he doing this?

Why should he even give the young man the time of day?

He groaned to himself and paused to lean down and snatch a soda can off the sidewalk. He chunked the trash into the nearest bin with a loud clatter and stopped for a moment.

His gaze traveled up the tall buildings, most of their windows still shimmering in the night. Pretty little yellow squares still illuminated by the souls that weren’t done with their workday.

The question he’d asked himself still hung in the chilled air.

_ Why was he doing this? _

Because he’d stupidly convinced himself that running into the man that broke his heart in college by coincidence was some sort of fate in the works? Maybe. That sounded about right.

He just couldn’t get the young man’s face out of his head.

He really hadn’t given much thought to that chapter of his life in a very long time. He’d been too caught up in law school, in the bar exams, in the job hunting and finally in the uprooting of his life and landing here. That heartbreak had been shelved right along beside his first semester textbooks.

So why was he revisiting this?

He should hate the amber haired man. Really he should.

But alas Axton wasn’t the type to hold grudges, he’d never really been very good at it.

Call it a weakness or call it a strength, he couldn’t really change it all the same.

He just wasn’t going to think about it too much. He was already here and he wasn’t turning back. At the very least he’d get a good burger out of the entire experience.

The sandy haired man’s feet paused beneath the large neon sign above him. The letters bathed him in blue and the catchy tune he’d detected from a ways down was now much louder in his ears. He supposed Sal had a live band tonight, which of course he was more than ok with. He always enjoyed the small artists Sal managed to find in the crevices of the big city.

His back bumped against the wall of the restaurant, and his big hand fished through his pocket coming away with a bright yellow pack of cigarettes. He smacked the packet against the meat of his palm a couple of times before fetching a single cigarette from its confines and perching it between his thin lips. With several clicks he finally coaxed his lighter to life and brought the weak flame to his drug of choice.

He took a long draw of the thing, it’s cherry glowing bright and red in the darkness.

He expelled the wispy smoke with a heavy sound, if anything the cancer stick might just calm his nerves a bit. The fiery taste it left on his tongue was a welcome reprieve. Yeah the damned things might kill him in the long run, but it was what it was.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

A yellow taxi made its way down the old street and slowed as it came to the front of the building. It’s tires bumped the curb and it came to a halt with the squeal of brakes that needed some attention.

Axton took another puff on his cigarette.

The door came open and the familiar young man made his way from the belly of the cab. His eyes were squinted, looking to the bright blue sign then down to his phone, as if calculating if this was in fact the right destination.

“Rhys!” Axton called with a wave of his hand.

The amber haired man jumped slightly, but seemed to be relieved when his eyes collided with a familiar face. It was obvious he didn’t make it down into this part of town often. Kid didn’t look like he much belonged here either. He was dressed in tight black pants and an aqua colored button down shirt, a grey coat thrown over the rest of his attire. He looked like a million bucks…and from what Axton had heard through the grapevine…he probably was worth at least that.

Rhys approached the bigger man sheepishly.

“H-Hey. I wasn’t sure I uh…had the right place…” Rhys muttered shyly.

Axton only grinned and sucked in a drag. He blew the smoke into the air and casually put out his cigarette in the ashtray by the front door.

“Yeah place is a little hard to find.” Axton chuckled.

Rhys’ eyes were questioning as they soaked in the rough exterior of the eatery, a flash of concern darting across his pretty eyes.

“Don’t worry, like I said it aint a looker, but the foods worth it.” Axton reassured as his big hand spread out over the small of Rhys’ back to usher the man inside.

Rhys felt his body stiffen at the touch. He knew it was just a gentlemanly gesture. But all the same the touch might as well have been from an open flame. His hands were so big, and strong in the way that they gently showed Rhys  to the door.

The other man yanked the door open and allowed Rhys in first.

Right…people still opened doors for others…that was still something people did. He had to remind himself of that.

The small place was dimly lit and smelled like something heavenly. Rhys had half expected it to carry a dark, dank scent…but he was proven tragically wrong. The live band was settled on the stage, playing something that was light and interesting. The type of tune you could easily take a partner dancing to. Most the occupants of the place were huddled at the tables around the stage, sipping drinks and clapping along with the music.

Axton motioned toward a booth in the far corner.

“That look okay? It’s a little less noisy there.” He said with a smile.

Rhys nodded in silent agreement.

Rhys scooted himself into the booth and Axton did the same on the opposite side.

The young man leaned his chin in his palm and seemed to be enthralled with the band.

“I like this music.” Rhys said with an awkward chuckle.

Axton smiled.

“Yeah, Sal is real good at finding off the wall people to play.” Axton replied.

The music curled up through the walls, the band's set deteriorating into something softer. The food went down easy and the drinks even easier. The two navigated through the awkward small talk of two people that hardly knew each other anymore. They may as well have been strangers sitting across from each other in that booth.

Rhys tipped his light beer to his lips and settled it back down softly.

This used to come so easy, the laughter, having beers over a conversation. But now Rhys found himself stumbling and floundering. The beers lessened his nerves, but they did not take them away completely.

Axton looked to his own beer bottle then to his company.

The young man was different than how he remembered.

The Rhys he had known was going to conquer worlds. The Rhys he had known was confident and outspoken.

But this Rhys…this Rhys was less so.

There was something timid in his demeanor now, something guarded and hidden. There was something more tucked away behind his sad looking eyes. There was hurt there and the caring nature in Axton wanted to know why. So long ago he would have just swept the man away to his bedroom and rubbed his shoulders and kissed his neck until everything was mended. Years ago he was who Rhys would run to with his troubles.

But here and now…it was all so different.

Axton hadn’t thought it would be this hard.

“You know I meant what I said last night.” Rhys said suddenly, his gaze not settled directly on Axton, but instead on a picture frame behind him.

Looking at him was too hard.

Axton took the neck of his beer from his lips.

Rhys paused, sloshing the tail end of his beverage distantly.

“The apology I mean.” He clarified.

Axton nodded slowly.

“I know it was a long time ago…but that doesn’t make me any less sorry.” Rhys whispered.

Suddenly the band faded away, the room no longer mattered…all that was important was the corner booth, bathed in red lights, occupied by two people that were worlds apart coming together once again.

“I forgive you Rhys. I forgave you a long time ago.” Axton said softly.

Rhys felt warmth wash through him.

Was this what forgiveness was like? It was so warm and pleasant.

“So can this stop being super awkward...now that we got this out of the way?” Axton chuckled lightly.

Rhys grinned, with all his teeth this time, and that was the smile that Axton remembered.

There he was, the Rhys Axton had known. It was just a small moment, but Axton saw him. That was the Rhys he’d loved so hard. That was the Rhys that had been so excited to see snow for the first time on campus. That was the Rhys that would curl up by the big picture window in Axton's loft with a good book. That was the Rhys that had cried and called Axton a moronic ape when they’d had their first fight. That was the Rhys that had helped Axton paint his home, even though he had no idea how to do it. That was the Rhys that always drank all the milk and left the empty jug in the fridge.

Rhys had lost count of the beers he’d drank.

They were so smooth going down and his tongue became looser and looser. For a mere second…he felt something, deep down inside. He was laughing, he was smiling… and it was actually real. Axton boomed as he went on with the story he was telling, his eyes bright and twinkling.

What was this?

Was he actually…enjoying himself?

The two were consumed in laughter, their smiles mirroring one another’s.

Axton looked down at his watch and sighed loudly.

“I gotta be up early for work, we better call it a night.” He said with regret in his tone.

Rhys nodded in understanding.

“Yeah me too.” Rhys agreed.

With their tab paid the two were then thrust back out into the cold night.

Axton stole a glance at the other man. His cheeks were full of crimson color from the beers he’d had, and there was a glimmer in his eyes that Axton hadn’t seen when he’d first arrived.

“Wanna share a cab? Just so I can make sure you make it home alright.” Axton offered kindly.

Rhys could feel himself blush deep.

“You don’t have to do that…” Rhys started.

“I insist.” Axton cut him off with a charming smile.

The bigger man hailed a cab and waited for the vehicle to come to a stop before he yanked the door open and urged Rhys to get in first. Rhys smiled bashfully and slid himself into the worn bench seat. Axton followed and hurriedly slammed the door, shutting out the cold bite from the night air.

Rhys told the driver his address and the man nodded without a word. Rhys liked it better when the drivers didn’t make conversation. It was just easier that way. He didn’t like having to explain where he was going or why…saying very little was just more convenient.

That’s how he’d grown to live his life.

Say little and hope not to be noticed.

A silence settled heavily over the two men.

Rhys’ pupils wandered over the larger man, soaking in his posture and the look in his eyes.

The cab bumped and rocked as it glided over the winding streets. Through stop lights and left turns it was a silent, easy ride. 

And then the simple quiet was broken. 

“You know it nearly killed me when I heard from Vaughn that you got married.” Axton whispered suddenly.

Rhys felt his blood run cold.

Axton turned to him and to his surprise... smiled.

“I know, how selfish of me right?” Axton chuckled sadly.

Rhys couldn’t focus on anything but the way his throat was tightening.

“Axton…” Rhys whispered.

Axton held up his hand and shook his head.

“Shit I’m sorry, get a few beers in me and I’m a big sap. Guess that goes for the both of us huh?” Axton laughed lowly.

“I just hope you’re happy Rhys. Really…that’s all I ever wanted.” Axton continued.

Rhys wanted to hate how caring his smile was.

He wanted to hate how genuine his words were.

Rhys wanted to hate  _ him _ .

He wanted to hate his broad chest and his loud tone and his pearly teeth.

Rhys felt tears well in the corners of his eyes.

How could he look the other man in the face and tell him how his life had deteriorated? He wanted to yell it, he wanted to scream it, to finally tell  _ someone  _ that everything was falling apart. Nothing was ok and he hadn’t been happy for a very long time.

He’d never been able to admit it…even to himself.

A fat, slow tear ran the length of Rhys’ slender cheek.

The street lights glittered in the new moisture and Axton’s face fell as he caught sight of it.

“Rhys? What’s wrong?” Axton said, concern heavy in his voice.

The cab came to a stop at Rhys’ front gate.

“Everything Axton. Everything’s wrong.”

The words seared the insides of his esophagus.

And then Rhys was coming across the cab seat and pressing his lips into Axton’s.

The other man stiffened in surprise. Then finally...his fingers found Rhys’ amber locks and cradled the young man's head as the act of passion was pressed upon him.

The moment seemed to last years, decades as warm mouths melded together in a slow, easy fashion. Axton tasted like the heavy beer he’d been drinking and it lit fire in Rhys’ gut.

And then realization washed through the man’s every nerve.

Jack.

What if Jack found out?

Jack would be furious.

He was betraying him.

He could almost feel the imaginary anger from his husband. How rough his hands would be on Rhys.

How many things would he break? How loud would he yell? What a fight that would be.

No. No. No. No.

Rhys pulled back suddenly, leaving Axton wide eyed and confused.

“I have to go.” Rhys stammered before he moved to clamber out of the cab and get free of the suffocating space.

Axton was caught between his heart and his good sense. 

His heart wanted to climb out of the rumbling vehicle and go after the other man. His heart needed to make everything ok. 

But his better sense didn't agree.

His better sense knew what he'd been through with this man before and he wasn't going to run his heart through the mud again. 

He'd begged the young man to stay before and he wasn't about to a second time. His face was contorted into an expression of bewilderment and pain. 

Rhys paused with the door open. 

He should say something...Anything...But he couldn't will himself to do so. 

And so he stepped out of the car, and left. 

  
  



	5. Like Old Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been away from all my stories for a while, this one is holding my interest though so oops!! I am literally going to put Rhys through the ringer in this friggin story. But...at least he gets some happiness in this chapter :')

It had been seven days.

Seven days that Rhys’ phone hadn't rung.

Seven days that it remained empty of text messages.

Seven days.

Except that was a lie.

It had rung. It had harbored messages here and there, one of the messages carrying the information that Jack would not be home for another week and a half maybe even two. Business had run long and honestly his longer absence was a much needed reprieve for Rhys with the current state of things. He really hadn’t decided how he would look Jack in the eyes when the time came for it.

It was as if he feared that the very moment their pupils collided the older man would know.

He’d know of the emotional, impulsive, stupid, stupid kiss.

He’d instantly sense the lies hiding behind Rhys’ blue and brown orbs. He’d know they were there.

Even if the logic made absolutely no sense, it still shook the young man down to his roots. It curled deep in his depths and chewed with sharp teeth and he simply couldn’t shake it loose. 

His empty home was a welcome entity.

He wouldn’t have to deal with that, not just yet at least.

What wasn’t a lie, was that his little cellular device had been void of all messages or calls from the one number he wanted to hear from.

Rhys paused in the middle of his task just to slip his fingers into his back pocket and take the phone from them for the umpteenth time in the last hour or so. Still it presented him with nothing new. He really hadn’t expected it to, but he couldn’t keep himself from checking…just in case.

He cursed himself beneath his breath and shoved the piece of technology back into his jeans’ pocket.

His hands tightened on the handle of the mop, viciously taking the cleanup activity back into his hands. He needed to get the shop mopped up and then he could just go home and bury himself in the safe haven of the hollow house. There was a bottle of whiskey sitting pretty tucked in the very back of the top shelf of the pantry that was whispering temptingly in his ear. He wasn’t even much of a hard liquor enthusiast…but he’d downed his last bottle of wine two nights ago and he wasn’t about the drag his sorry carcass to the store after a day like this. He just wanted to curl up on the couch and allow it to swallow him whole.

If he never saw the light of day from the depths of the furniture’s cushions again that would be just fine.

The young man dragged the mop vigorously over a stubborn spot on the floor.

Why had he done that?

Why had he kissed him?

Why had he fucked everything up like that?

Because that was all he was good at anymore.

He had become uncannily skilled at taking everything and tearing it into ribbons. He always did. He always would. And that was just the nature of it all.

There was more angry mopping, the utensil slopping at the tile wetly.

Why had the other man even come back into his life like so? Why hadn’t he just stayed the hell away from this disaster that Rhys called his own? He didn’t need any more complications. He didn’t need those stupidly gorgeous green eyes and that sincere smile. He didn’t need any of it. He didn’t need his past mistakes coming back like restless ghosts to chase him down in his present.

Those phantoms were rattling age old chains in his ears…and he couldn’t drown it out.

His head churned with the weight of it all.

“Rhys?”

The young man was suddenly startled out of his head by the voice beside him. Rhys jumped and the mop handle juggled out of his fingers, clattering to the ground with a loud slap.

Rhys whirled his head around only to see the face of a very concerned, familiar red-head staring back at him.

Her brows knitted together, creating little ripples between her eyes. Her expression was gentle, but it was all the same worried.

“Jeez I didn’t mean to scare you.” She said apologetically as she took a step backward.

Rhys let go of a heavy sigh and shook his head slowly.

“I just…got lost in my thoughts is all.” He said softly as he bent his body to snatch up the dropped utensil.

The corners of Gaige’s lips downturned into a wary frown. She knew the other man well enough to sense when there was something wrong. And there was indeed something wrong here…

He’d been distant for the last week. He’d stayed late closing and half the time he didn’t really seem to be present in body and in mind.

She scratched absentmindedly at her wrist. Her work was done, she should head home, but she had to make sure the amber haired man was ok first. She wanted to at least offer the kindness of asking.

“Rhys…are you ok? You’ve seemed kinda…off lately.” Gaige asked softly.

Rhys was already prepared for the question…and how to avoid it with trained skill.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately, nothing to worry about.” Rhys said as he shifted his weight to one hip and offered Gaige a painfully tired smile.

He knew Gaige wasn’t taking the bait.

“Are you sure?” Gaige tried one more time.

If he didn’t want to give up the real answer now, then she’d leave it be…but it was worth one last ditch effort to pry it out of him.

The weary smile hung on the man’s lips twitched just slightly, but the effort it took was concerning.

“I’m fine Gaige. Go home, get some sleep, I’m just going to finish up around here.” Rhys said with a nod.

She would make no progress tonight, that was made apparent right there and then.

The young woman let her shoulders drop.

The shop was closed tomorrow, maybe the man would be forced to get some rest then.

She could hope at least.

“Alright. I’ll see you Monday. If you need anything just give me a call.” The redhead said as she made her way across the room, her slender fingers snatching her purse off the front desk in the process.

“And I mean anything ok?” She repeated as she hovered there in the doorway.

Rhys chuckled softly.

“Alright Gaige. Goodnight.”

The young woman bid him a goodnight in return and then was gone out into the fading daylight of the city. The weak sun rays were already sinking low beneath the skyscrapers and shadows were growing long over the sidewalks.

The lanky man’s shoes slapped the concrete of the shop floor as he ventured to the front of the shop and turned the little open sign around to signify their closing for the day. He stood there for a moment, eyes wandering outside the large front windows, watching as the people outside hurried to their taxis and their trains. They hurried home…home to warm arms and warm meals and loving environments that were worth running to at the end of the day.

Their feet were always making haste, briefcases hugged close and phones pressed to their ears, letting their family or significant other know they were on their way.

Rhys’ stomach dropped.

He missed feeling like that.

He missed the days he’d rush to get the shop cleaned and the doors locked to he could hurry home and curl up in warm arms. He remembered full bellies and slow kisses and how it felt to exist in such a calm, soft environment. It was hard to believe that the volatile house that he now went home to every night was that same safe place. In another time, in another place, but that was all just fond memories anymore.

He turned irritably from the big windows and made his way to the back to continue his mopping.

He tried his hardest to lose himself amongst the tree leaves and forget about the world outside these walls. He didn’t want to think about the love they were returning home to. He didn’t want to think about the fond kisses in the doorway as they arrived. He didn’t want to think about smiling faces, or happiness, or any of that.

He shoved it all into the back of his brain where it belonged.

If he didn’t, his jealousy would damn near eat him alive.

This was the only way he knew how to survive.

And that was all he was doing anymore…just…surviving.

The small tinkle of the front door’s bell licked at his ears and he cursed softly.

Had he not locked the front door?

Of course he hadn’t.

Because he couldn’t seem to get himself on track for long enough to even complete such a simple task.

Rhys leaned his mop against the nearest wall and started toward the front.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed.” Rhys called out shortly.

The young man’s steps slowed nearly to a stop as his eyes scored over the occupant now taking up space in the front of the little shop. He allowed the glass door to swing shut carefully, the little bell still singing its praises to the room.

“Ah. Musta read your sign wrong.”

Axton’s voice was low and seemed to be attempting something along the lines of humor.

Rhys’ eyes were the size of dinner plates as he observed the other man.

“I won’t take up much of your time.” Axton continued as he buried his hands in his pockets and took several careful steps toward the young man.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just…didn’t expect to see you here.” Rhys stuttered as he past Axton quickly and made sure to actually lock the front door this time to ensure nobody else wandered inside.

Axton nodded.

“Figured I needed to give you a little space…” Axton shrugged.

Rhys stood facing the bigger man, his demeanor fearful and skittish.

“That’s why you didn’t call…or anything…?” Rhys whispered slowly.

“Yeah. I just…figured we got off on the wrong foot…and I needed to stay away for a while…but I never have been a smart man and before I knew what I was doing, I was catching a cab and heading this way…” Axton sighed with a shrug of his wide shoulders.

Rhys chuckled awkwardly.

“I just thought…I totally ran you off…I’m such a mess, I’m so embarrassed…” Rhys babbled quietly.

Axton held up a hand and shook his head.

“Run me off? You know it takes a lot to accomplish that darlin’. Naw. I just, dunno felt like I needed to see ya. Check in on ya. See how you were doing.” Axton shrugged.

“Shit. Truth be told Rhys I’m kinda worried ‘bout ya. I know I don’t know shit about your life, and you don’t know shit ‘bout mine…but seems like you gotta lot goin on. Figured you could use a friend.” The sandy haired man continued.

It was stupid. But the words hit the young man like a shotgun round to the chest. The emotions he’d been storing away simply leaked out with the new wound and he couldn’t stop his body from reacting.

Before he really knew what was happening, he had his arms wrapped tightly around the breadth of the other man’s shoulders.

He allowed Axton’s heat to seep into his arms as he buried his face against the bigger man’s familiar chest.

Axton’s reaction to the embrace was not hesitant.

Big arms wrapped around Rhys’ slender body and held onto him as the young man fell apart. The amber haired man sobbed into Axton’s suit jacket and half of Rhys was so very sorry because he was sure the thing was expensive. But he needed this. He needed the comfort that he’d been starved of for what felt like eons. He just needed some sort of human contact that was genuine. He needed to know that he was still real, that he was still a person…and not just some shell of one.

Axton’s massive fingers carded through soft amber locks slowly.

“Hey, it’s ok…” Axton whispered softly.

It was only then that Rhys became painfully aware of just how ridiculous he must seem…crying on the shoulder of someone who was nearly a stranger. How stupid.

Rhys feebly wiped at his eyes and made to step backward out of Axton’s grip. Axton let him go with a look of concern.

“I’m so sorry. I’m a goddamned wreck…” Rhys spat viciously.

It was clear that he was angry at himself for seeming so vulnerable.

“Rhys, stop.” Axton said sternly.

Rhys shook his head quickly.

“I’m sure I look really fucking pitiful…crying on your suit like some idiot…” Rhys snarled.

“Who gives a shit? I sure don’t. Now cut that out ok?” Axton said flatly.

Rhys closed his eyes for a moment.

“Why do you care anyway? Don’t you have better things to do than to waste time on your idiotic ex? You should be gloating or something, happy because I got what I deserved.” Rhys barked.

“You’re some big shot now, some big goddamned success and my life has gone to fucking shit. You should be enjoying all of this.”

Axton’s eyes flashed with a hint of shock then immediately soaked with anger.

“You  _ really  _ think that’s the kind of man I am??” Axton hissed.

“How dare you say shit like that? You really think it gets my rocks off to see you like this? Hell I don’t even  _ know  _ this Rhys. And that scares the shit out of me.” Axton continued, his voice bubbling with displeasure.

Rhys curled his fists and his eyes dropped to the floor.

“I don’t even know this Rhys.” The young man whispered, his cheeks wet and his bottom lip buried between his teeth.

“I’m sorry…I don’t know why I said those things.” The man whispered.

Axton breathed out heavily.

The sensation of the sandy haired man’s palm on Rhys’ shoulder had his skin tingling.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re going through…but I’m here ok? If you need to talk. If you just need to fucking cry on my suit…or whatever. I’m here.” Axton said softly, his green eyes meeting with Rhys’ in a way that was both friendly and concerned.

“How are you still this nice of a guy? It’s stupid you know.” Rhys sniffled softly.

A small grin broke Axton’s lips.

“Just in my nature darlin’.”

The heavy man sighed.

“I’ve got a stew in the crockpot that should be done by now…put it on before I left for the office…if you want a hot meal and an ear…you are more than welcome to come over for dinner.” Axton said slowly.

Rhys seemed to hesitate.

“Right, I mean if you need to get home to your husband it's fine…” Axton said quickly.

The word seared the roof of his mouth and burned all the way out his teeth.

_ Husband. _

Right, because the pretty young man was married now…and not to Axton like they’d once fantasized about so many years ago.

The man’s throat clenched.

They were going to run away and get married without either of the families knowing, so nobody could stop them and nobody could have a say. They were going to vacation down in Aquator. They were going to laze on white sand beaches and explore the island territory without haste. They were going to sleep in a cabin next to the clear water, clothes abandoned on the floor, bodies pressed together while they watched the hours in the day go by.

They were going to have a house, not in the city, but somewhere with greenery, somewhere with trees. They were going to have a couple of kids. They were going to listen to the pitter patter of little feet running up and down the stairs.

Those were all just foolish, love drunk plans, but the still stung like hell.

Axton would never admit that out loud.

But they did.

They always would.

Rhys shook his head quickly.

“No. I want to. He’s out of town.” Rhys said too quickly.

Rhys seemed to realize how strange that had sounded.

“I just, he’s been out of town for over a week now. House is really empty with just me…I’d like some company honestly.” Rhys added on with an awkward laugh.

Axton smiled, slow and big.

“Well, I can’t claim to be good company…but I’m company all the same.” He snorted.

That collected a little laugh from Rhys.

Rhys followed Axton to the front door in a way that was nothing less than wary. He’d been through this neighborhood several times. It was where a lot of the up and coming took residence. They were large apartment complexes that housed grand layouts that looked over the city with a particularly sought after view. Rhys instantly wondered how Axton had even been able to acquire an apartment in this building. He knew people that were put on waiting lists for months just to have the possibility of moving in here.

They’d ridden the large elevator up more floors than Rhys had cared to count, and he couldn’t help but to take notice of how all the interior of the building seemed to glisten with marble.

Axton shoved the door open and motioned for Rhys to go through the threshold first.

Damn his old world manners.

“Sorry the place is a bit of a wreck, still in the process of unpacking and stuff. You know how that goes.” Axton chuckled as he tailed Rhys inside and closed the door with a gentle click.

“I’ve never exactly known you to keep a house very clean.” Rhys tried at the joke feebly.

Axton chortled loudly.

“Alright, alright you got me.” He said with a laugh.

Rhys made his way carefully into the spacious apartment. The space opened up into a massive living room, all lined with hardwood floors and a large marble fireplace. A couch took its place in the middle of it all and two somewhat matching chairs stood loyally beside it. There was a pile of boxes pushed off into the corner and an abandoned pair of slacks with a red tie atop them slung over the back of the vast couch.

It was painfully apparent that is was a home that belonged to a single occupant.

It had that same sort of messy touch that the old college loft once had.

Of course this was the grown up version of it all that was vastly more expensive…but it was still undeniably  _ Axton. _

“Take your coat off, make yourself comfortable.” Axton said as he shuffled around the room quickly trying to collect the discarded clothing from the floor and furniture.

He bundled them up and quickly disappeared into what Rhys could only assume was the laundry room.

Rhys slowly shucked off his coat and gently hung it on the rack by the kitchen entrance.

“This place is really nice Axton.” Rhys said as his eyes wandered the spacious home with wonder.

Axton shrugged as he wriggled out of his suit-jacket and threw it over the back of one of his dining room chairs with little care.

“Ah thanks, its roomy, has a nice view too. I can’t complain.” Axton said humbly as he loosened the knot of his tie with his thumb and allowed the silky material to hang loosely around his neck.

Rhys leaned on the entrance to the large kitchen and watched with keen eyes as the bigger man was left only in his button down, pressed, white shirt and his black slacks. Rhys found himself hanging on the build of the man’s body, on the swells of his chest, on the bulge of his arms. Rhys shook his head.

Axton gently took the lid from the pot and stirred the contents with a deep inhale of the hearty stew.

“Smells like it is good and ready. C’mon, I’ll get you a bowl.” Axton said as he looked back to Rhys, who was still hovering in the doorway.

Axton placed a bowl into the cup of Rhys’ palms and went about serving the young man a healthy portion. With that he motioned for Rhys to go sit at the little brunch table butted up against a large picture window that looked out on the city with a view that was nothing less that spectacular.

Rhys did so without an argument and settled himself down in the hearty oak chair, the legs creaking across the tile as he scooted forward. He wasn’t accustomed to someone serving him dinner. He and Jack hardly ate together anymore. Normally one had gotten supper before coming home, or nobody felt like cooking. The days where Rhys had planned grand meals had long since passed. Now he really didn’t much care to sit and have a meal with the very man he was married to. Sitting together for too long usually just resulted in an argument…and the young man was far too tired to fight anymore.

Rhys watched as Axton fetched him a spoon and a folded paper towel.

“Watcha want to drink?” Axton questioned cheerily.

“I’ve got a fresh six pack if you want a beer?” Axton said with a smile.

Rhys sighed.

“Eh, I better stick to water. I tend to embarrass myself even more than usual around you when I drink.” Rhys admitted bleakly.

Axton chuckled.

“Water for the both of us then.” He said with a grin.

Rhys smiled.

It was small…but it was there all the same.

Axton placed two cups full of ice water down at the table before serving himself and finally taking his seat across from Rhys. The young man carefully took a spoonful of the meal and slid the nourishment between his lips. The tastes flooded his mouth pleasantly and he hummed out in appreciation.

Several more hungry spoonful’s made it to his mouth as he consumed the delicious food eagerly. He really hadn’t stopped long enough during the day to consider just how hungry he actually was. He hadn’t eaten much in the hours passed, just a bag of crackers, some chips and a donut early in the morning. His eating habits hadn’t been of the healthiest variety lately. The dark cloud looming over him had stolen even that away from his grip. He hardly ate, he didn’t take care of himself the way he should…he was just existing with each day that went by.

Yet here he was, being served a good meal, in a home that didn’t feel so cold as his own did…and he had company. Company that wouldn’t yell, or anger over something small. This company wouldn’t curse and grab him too roughly. This company was safe.

Rhys swallowed a mouthful of stew and looked across the table to Axton who seemed to sense the eyes upon him and paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth.

“It taste ok? I mean I’m not the best cook but I give it one helluva shot.” Axton asked in concern.

Rhys laughed.

“No, no it’s great. It tastes amazing.” Rhys said quickly.

“I just…thank you…for doing this. For having me over.” Rhys continued distantly.

Axton nodded.

“You are welcome here anytime Rhys.” Axton replied.

“I just want us to y’know…get this friendship thing down again…”

Rhys chuckled.

“Yeah. Me too. It’s just too weird that we’d run into each other.” Rhys admitted as he took another spoonful of food.

Axton smiled in agreement.

“Kinda what I was thinking.” He seconded.

The food went down easy, their conversation coming with less strain as the meal went on. Rhys left all thoughts of right and wrong at the door. He left the embarrassment of their previous encounters there too. He left it all lying in the hallway outside of Axton’s apartment and he simply allowed himself to enjoy the moment at hand. He allowed himself to savor the company, he allowed himself to indulge in the friendly nature of the other man.

Hours later they sat on the length of the large couch, shoes toed off and lying on the floor carelessly. The television on the wall droned quietly in the background, its volume turned down to allow their conversation to take priority.

Rhys paused, his eyes looking out over the great city with a sense of bitterness clinging to his tongue.

“I used to think this place was so wonderful…”Rhys mused softly.

Axton’s brows furrowed together and Rhys cleared his throat to clarify.

“The city…I mean. Dunno…I used to think if I came here…I’d made it. That this is where my life would start and I could make all of my stupid dreams become reality. Because that’s how the city works right? The city of big dreams…” Rhys muttered.

A deep-set frown interrupted Axton’s features.

“You always were hell bent on the city life. Always talked about how you’d move here the second that degree made it into your hands.” Axton whispered in agreement.

Rhys felt that old guilt rile up from the bile of his stomach.

“I was a fool.” Rhys snarled suddenly.

Axton seemed slightly taken aback by the statement.

“If I could take it all back, I would you know.” He continued.

“Rhys…you don’t mean that.” Axton sighed.

“I do though. I would go back to senior year, I would have booked that trip we talked about. The one to Aquator? I wouldn’t have taken that god forsaken job. I would have just splayed out on that beach and drank all the flowery, pink, fruity fucking drinks I could get my friggin hands on.” Rhys said with a smile, but the expression was sad and longing.

Axton snorted.

“What would our mothers have thought? You and I getting hitched in secret, running off like a couple of lovestruck idiots.” Axton grinned as he leaned back against the couch.

“Mine would have had a heart attack. I can just imagine the stern talking to I’d have gotten from her.  _ You didn’t even tell us!? We weren’t even invited!! Your grandmother is heartbroken!”  _ Rhys mimicked his mother’s voice jokingly.

Axton laughed harder.

“I wouldn’t have worn anything but a goddamned ring of flowers on my head for a week straight and not given a worry about this stupid city or that job, or anything of the sort. I’d just let everything roll. Just let it happen…live in the moment…y’know…I really only knew how to do that when you were around.” Rhys went on.

Axton scratched at the back of his head, his eyes fond as he allowed himself to get lost in the imagery Rhys was painting.

“You would have been so tan. Like a little sun god all crispy bronze. I had the ring all picked out too. Gold, cause you always loved yourself some gold. Never really got that. I’m a silver kind of guy myself.” Axton teased.

Rhys stopped.

“You picked out a ring?” Rhys asked softly.

Axton nodded and shrugged his big shoulders up.

“Bought the damn thing too.” He laughed.

Rhys’ face fell.

“I had no idea…” Rhys stuttered.

Axton looked to Rhys with big, understanding eyes.

“Naw, never would have told you that. Still have it somewhere in all this mess of boxes.” Axton grinned.

“Why the heck didn’t you pawn it?” Rhys asked in confusion.

“Couldn’t bring myself to do it. Little part of me always thought hey, maybe it will come in handy someday. Who knows? It was too fresh to give it away. Too pretty to just give back.” Axton said stretching his arms up above his head lithely.

“I should have spent that summer with you. That was supposed to be our summer…” Rhys whispered sadly.

“Eh, it is what it is darlin’.” Axton said with a smile.

Rhys wanted to hate how easily Axton could forgive him for all that he’d done. He hated how Axton acted as if he had never broken his heart.

“Is it too late to ask for that beer?” Rhys muttered as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Never too late for that. I’ll go get us each one.” Axton grinned as he hefted himself up off the furniture.

Axton deposited the cold beverage into Rhys’ fingers after twisting off the cap and the chilled liquid was a welcome reprieve on his tongue. Axton flopped heavily back down onto the cushions and took a long swig.

He paused for a moment and then leaned over with his bottle raised.

“To past mistakes.” He grunted.

Rhys clinked the neck of his bottle against the other man’s.

“To past mistakes.” Rhys parroted.

“Were you mad?” Rhys questioned suddenly.

Axton mulled the question over for a long moment before coming forth with the answer.

“Yeah. I hated you for a hell of a long time. And yet I never could bring myself to throw away all our pictures. They’re still in a box too. I hated you, but couldn’t throw you away. Sad huh?” Axton admitted.

“It’s kind of beautiful.” Rhys shrugged.

“Or pathetic.” Axton quipped.

“I just should have done so much differently. I had a pretty fucked up idea of success…and look where it got me right? I ended up quitting that job several years down the line. Met Jack, fell in love, thought I had my happily ever after…fuck was I wrong. Now everything’s just a pile of shit” Rhys groaned.

Axton swallowed another mouthful of his beverage.

“He’s that Hyperion CEO huh? Real big shot?” Axton asked cautiously.

“Yeah. These days I’m not sure if he’s married to me or that damned company anymore though.” Rhys sighed.

Rhys seemed to become aware of how he was coming off and quickly back pedaled.

“I mean…he’s…he’s a good guy. I love him…I do. I just I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix everything. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.” He followed up.

“Or maybe it’s not you who needs to pick up a hammer and nails and start fixing things.” Axton shrugged.

Rhys seemed to bristle at the commentary.

“Jack’s not the problem. I am, I’m…hard to have a relationship with I know. It’s my fault.” Rhys said defensively.

Why was he defending Jack?

Why in the world couldn’t he admit the truth?

Axton raised his hands nonchalantly.

“Alright Rhys, I didn’t mean any offense. I just…I know we’ve only been around each other a handful of times…but you don’t seem very happy.”

Rhys felt his lips tighten.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I don’t even know why I did.” Rhys breathed out.

“I regret leaving you…I should have married you...”

The words slipped from his mouth without his consent. They were far too real, far too bold. He’d never wanted to admit something like that aloud. The sentence dropped down into the conversation heavily, both men going silent as it lay there.

Axton said nothing and Rhys could feel his insides crawling.

“Shit I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…I just…” Rhys tried to tuck the comment back away in his brain…but it was too late.

It was out in the open and there was no taking it back.

Rhys tried to drown the words in his beer, downing it in several swallows. Small tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he allowed the slipped sentence to really soak into his bones. He’d meant it. He’d really meant that. If he could hop aboard a time machine and ride it back to that day before graduation, to that day where they’d fought and he’d walked away, instead he would have just kissed the bigger man the way he’d used to. He’d have told him he was in this no-matter what, he’d remind Axton to pack a pair of nice clothes for their trip.

He hated the way Axton was looking at him.

He hated that he couldn’t stop the slow tears sliding down his cheek.

Axton’s weight dipped the couch where Rhys sat.

He was so heavy, so big, a solid mass of muscle as he crowded into the other man’s personal space.

What was he doing?

Rhys didn’t much care.

Axton wiped the flitting tear from his face.

Axton kissed his cheek.

He’s so warm.

He’s so much bigger this close.

And all Rhys wanted to do is melt into him.

Axton’s fingers tilted Rhys chin just slightly, the young man’s eyes coming open from behind hooded, dark lids and it was both beautiful and sad and Axton’s heart could hardly handle it all. He half expected Rhys to shy away, to run just like he did all those years ago. But instead Rhys shifted toward Axton’s body and it was clear his feet were firmly planted to the ground. There will be no more running here.

Rhys tells himself this is going too far. The voice in the back of his skull is screaming it, but it’s being drowned out by the deafening thud of his heart in his chest and eventually it is completely lost. Suddenly Jack’s name doesn’t come to his tongue, suddenly their marriage, their terrible awful thing they call a relationship is out of sight out of mind. It doesn’t have a place here. There is no room on the couch for it.

There is just the two of them, and their shortening breath.

There is no place for good judgment.

And then Axton’s lips were on Rhys’.

The kiss was timid at first, unsure.

But Rhys’ arms looped lazily around the width of Axton’s weighty shoulders and the kiss became far more confident. Mouths slid together in a slow, easy fashion and Axton’s tongue explores along the hollows of his maw and comes to tease at his own lithe anatomy. The sandy haired man’s teeth pinch Rhys’ lower lip a little less than gently and Rhys gasps into the small space.

They break apart for a moment, their eyes meeting with one another’s, as if asking permission, as if asking if this really was ok.

Rhys’ face was full of color, painted with red hues like a fresh canvas. His heterochromatic eyes were dancing with something so wrong it was right.

“Fuck me.” Rhys snarled suddenly, his voice coming out raspy and torn.

Axton’s mouth forced into the young man’s hard enough for their teeth to clack together.

His massive hands found home on the juts of Rhys’ thin hip bones and dragged the limber man toward him in a fashion that was nothing less than animalistic.

And then Axton was on him like some sort of bad plague, his mass forcing Rhys down into the couch. The weight was welcome as Rhys bowed up into the body atop him, his fingernails scraping down Axton’s designer shirt.

The bigger man’s mouth worked down from the point of the young man’s chin, to the curve of his throat, placing eager, hungry kisses to the susceptible flesh. The sensation of perfect teeth taking his pale skin between them instantly lit a fire deep down in the pit of Rhys’ stomach. Everything was so painfully familiar and yet all new in the very same sense. The touch of the man’s wide palms was something that had once been such a normalcy, but now as those same hands tugged the hem of Rhys’ polo shirt up the spans of his skinny torso it felt so different.

Everything felt urgent.

Like this had been a destined for a very, very long time and it was finally coming to bloom.

The cool air of the room around him licked at every inch of his exposed flesh, nipples rising to attention as the chill rattled down into his bones. He allowed his shirt to be tugged right over his head. He barely heard the thud as it hit the floor beside him.

Axton smelled like the type of cologne that could be found in one of the front windows of the ritzy shops downtown. It was sharp and woody and it invaded Rhys’ every sense, it was a scent he would have never associated with the other man.

So long ago when they’d come together like this, with Rhys’ nose buried in his football shirt, he’d smelled like that old apartment and something cheap from the corner store. It only paid homage to the fact that there were two very different men here now. They were not those same silly college kids so madly in love.

Rhys wasn’t even sure  _ what  _ they were now.

Was he just a broken soul starving for attention, desperate for some kind of affection? It didn’t matter.

He just  _ wanted  _ this.

Axton’s lips on his collarbone and his hands blindly working the young man’s belt apart only allowed Rhys to forget all the rest of it. He allowed the moment to swallow him whole and he was not coming up for air anytime soon.

He wanted to drown.

He didn’t need to breathe.

This was all he needed.

Rhys hummed and pressed his pelvis downward, toward the meet of the big hips there. Axton made a winded sound that was nothing less than a grunt and a witty smile crept across Rhys’ stupidly perfect lips.

Rhys’ fingers tangled in the loose collar of Axton’s shirt, crinkling finely pressed white material.

“Louder.” Rhys snarled and he could audibly hear the other man  _ swallow. _

Rhys’ long legs hooked around the small of Axton’s back, bringing them close enough to hear one another’s pulse thudding through pumping veins. The groan that dragged forth from the lowest point of Axton’s chest was enough to vibrate the walls of Rhys’ chest. It was deep, ragged and  _ primal. _

“I want it fucking  _ hard.”  _ Rhys barked through his teeth, tugging Axton’s face close.

The smile that spread over Axton’s square features should have shaken fear down into the young man’s bones…but it didn’t, it only conjured up something wicked and wrong that flooded through his every nerve like electricity.

“I’m gunna fucking  _ break  _ you Bambi…and that’s a goddamned promise.” Axton snarled back.

And in that moment Rhys’ wasn’t sure which one of them was meaner. The heat that riled up from the frantic way they ripped at each other’s clothing was far too heavy, the flicker in their eyes was something dangerous. They were playing a very risky game here and neither one of them was really intent on winning. If losing out to the wild thing that was desire was the punishment, they both seemed perfectly fine with that.

The nickname tumbled off of Axton’s tongue. The way it came through the man’s teeth caused all the little hairs on the back of Rhys’ neck to stand on end. It had been so long, it sounded so good and it  _ felt  _ even better.

Axton’s fingers worked open the front of his pristine shirt, finally shrugging the thin material off his big shoulders and letting it slide to the floor in an abandoned heap.

Rhys’ fingers explored over the wide plains of the man’s chest, feeling each heavy, unsteady breath he took. Axton’s fingers did not ask for permission as he ripped the little zipper of Rhys’ jeans downward, and they didn’t ask when they clumsily undid his top button. Rhys vaulted backward as the big man’s mouth found the tender lobe of his ear, talented teeth working the sensitive flesh between them. His thick tongue traveled the shell of Rhys’ anatomy and the touch alone had Rhys crying out obscenities.

The amber haired man’s cock pressed an uncomfortable line against the meet of his pants. The confines of his clothing were so hot and he was so hard, his shaft livid as he shifted and squirmed.

He could feel Axton smile against his ear.

_ “Fuck him…” _ Rhys thought to himself.  _ “Of course he would remember what that does to me…” _

Rhys careened and dragged blunt fingernails down Axton’s pectorals.

“Ah-AH AXTON!! P-please!! S-stop it’s too sensitive!!” Rhys begged out pitifully, his erection throbbing against his boxers uselessly.

“After all this time, that’s still the sweet spot isn’t it?” Axton grunted as his palm dipped low, sliding over Rhys’ apex, cupping the young man’s prominent hardness.

Rhys didn’t need to answer the question, his embarrassing state did all of the talking for him.

“Oh yeah it is.” Axton purred giving the man’s cock a not so gentle squeeze.

“ _ Motherfucker…”  _ Rhys grunted shifting his weight slightly.

“Goddamn Bambi, that mouth hasn’t changed has it?” Axton snarled as he ran the pad of his thumb across Rhys’ freshly dampened lips.

Rhys grinned, teeth white and hazardous.

The young man took Axton’s thumb into his wet mouth, sucking plump lips around the digit and gliding his tongue along the underside far too slowly. His sultry eyes captured the big man, staring him down like some siren come straight out of the sea to get at his soul. Was this the Rhys he remembered? Maybe? Or maybe this Rhys was even more vicious. Maybe this Rhys was far more dangerous. He was going to eat the man alive and really…Axton didn’t care.

Let him be swallowed down.

Let the pretty thing make a meal of him.

As long as he could bury his cock in that beautiful man’s tightness, he had no qualms with sacrificing himself.

Rhys' teeth sunk into the meat of Axton’s thumb and the man hissed out lowly.

“Didn’t anybody teach you not to bite the hand that feeds pretty boy?” Axton tutted as his fingers gripped Rhys by the chin in a way that was stern, but not mean.

“Guess not.” Rhys sniggered licking his teeth defiantly.

“Fuck I gotta have you.” Axton snarled.

Persistent hands removed what was left of Rhys’ clothing, and strong arms were then hauling the skinny young man up into Axton’s sturdy grip. Rhys allowed himself to be stolen from the couch, leaving his boxers and his jeans in a trail across the vast living room. He was barely aware of the slam of what he assumed was Axton’s bedroom door against the wall behind it. Axton nearly tossed the young man into the bed, Rhys’ back hitting the mattress with a hard thud.

Rhys looked up from his precarious position on the bed, chest heaving and eyes glossed over with the arousal coursing through him.

And then Axton left him there, panting on the king sized bed, sprawled out and naked. He should have felt unbelievably vulnerable, and yet he didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure he was being offered.

Axton returned with a small container of lubricant as he sauntered back across the room, dropping his slacks and shoving his boxer briefs down over thick thighs. Rhys leaned up on his elbows, watching as the other man approached with sudden enthuse.

Axton’s heavy cock bounced with his every step, unabashed as he finally came to the edge of the bed and hovered over his lean partner. In one firm motion he was grabbing Rhys’ hips and pulling the man toward him.

There was the pop of a plastic cap.

Rhys was suddenly very aware of the cold sensation of lubricant being spread over his entrance. He squirmed and hissed not quite sure if the cold was welcome or displeasing. Either way the fingers that followed were definitely a pleasant sensation.

Rhys groaned and rocked his hips down on Axton’s digits.

They were just as thick as he remembered.

Rhys’ eyes rolled, he knew he needed to be fucked open further, but he didn’t care. He wanted the stretch, he wanted the sudden intrusion of his partners cock.

“Goddammit just fuck me already!” Rhys barked the order in a strained, high voice.

Axton’s intelligent eyes flicked up to the young man, and his fingers slipped from the tightness around them.

Axton grabbed the young man’s leg tightly and took hold of his massive cock. With a shove of his hips he was several inches deep in the mouthy young thing. It was too fast, he hadn’t given the man enough time, and he knew that.

But neither of them seemed to care.

Rhys’ cries were a mixture of discomfort and absolute ecstasy.

He’d nearly forgotten just how goddamned big Axton was.

Only in his darkest midnight dreams did he really allow himself to linger on the thought of his past partner’s thick cock.

His entrance fluttered around the sudden intrusion, small whimpers coming from his tight lips pitifully.

“Careful what you wish for Bambi.” Axton teased meanly, his lips mere inches from the other man’s.

Rhys whined and gritted his teeth.

“What’s the matter darlin’? Too big?” Axton growled as his hips stuttered forward just slightly, stuffing a bit more of his erection into the tight space provided.

“AH!! FUCK!!” Rhys bellowed as he gripped the bed-sheets, white knuckled and panting.

Rhys clawed at Axton’s back as the other man bottomed out within him. His eyes slid backward as the feeling of utter fullness washed over him like a warm wave. Axton was so big, and the heat between them was so sticky, every touch was like an open flame and it had been so long since he’d been fucked  _ like this. _

Axton’s palms took hold of the young man’s ankles, nearly folding the limber man in half as he dazedly watched his own cock slide into the man beneath him, only to pull back out again. The sensation of skin on skin had Rhys’ spine tingling. He could feel every inch of Axton’s cock in the toe curling way that only a raw ride could provide. There should have been a condom thrown into the mix here somewhere he was sure of that, he was also sure he didn’t much give two shits as of now.

He selfishly wanted to feel the other man’s load deep within his core.

He should have been ashamed of such a nasty desire.

But he wasn’t.

Axton’s thrusts were hard against him, jarring the young man with each powerful pump of massive hips. The man’s muscles flexed with each strenuous motion and Rhys hated to admit just how much he enjoyed seeing the other man strain. Each and every breath that forced from Axton’s lips was ragged and heavy, beads of perspiration prickling at his hairline with all the activity. His grip on the young man’s ankles tightened, almost to the point of being too tight, but between his lewd moans and breathless yells he couldn’t find the words to say so.

“AXTON!!! AXTON!!!” Rhys nearly screamed, and he was pretty sure if Axton’s neighbors were unaware of the activities taking place before, they certainly were now.

A lopsided grin clung to Axton’s mouth.

“Just…as goddamned loud…too…” He grunted in-between thrusts.

Rhys’ back left the bed in a beautiful arch as he allowed the other man to pound into him, leaving all the shame he’d brought with him this evening lying on the floor alongside his jeans.

His voice was a prayer to Axton’s ears and the loud declarations of his own name, the young man begging for him to fuck harder had Axton’s ego swelling like a newly filled balloon. The man’s big fist curled around the breadth of Rhys’ cock, stroking in time with the motion of his hips, Rhys’ voice cracking off into a series of pitiful whimpers.

Axton was pretty sure he heard the young man try to stutter out that he was close.

But he wasn’t sure until the pretty man was rising off the mattress involuntarily and coming in strong, long ropes across his own chest. His finish decorated up over the length of him, some stringing across his slender cheek obscenely.

Rhys’ eyes slid open slowly, his mouth parted in a weak oval as he huffed into the tepid air.

He was pretty sure he’d never come so damned hard, his body almost instantly feeling the after effects of such a good fuck. Axton’s pace was merciless as he fucked into the young man, his hands holding tight enough to surely leave bruises and his eyebrows shoved together in a look of utter concentration.

The big man let go of a string of curses and his hips stilled for a moment, his cock swelling before he met his much needed peak. He rocked into the man beneath him half-heartedly, riding out each powerful comeshot as he filled Rhys’ entrance. It was a sticky, warm rush that had Rhys humming and pressing his hips downward greedily.

He wanted it all.  _ Every last drop. _

“Fucking…hell…” Axton panted as his powerful grip loosened on the other man’s ankles.

Rhys legs flopped down onto the bed limply, his arms thrown carelessly over his head, his tongue lolling out like some sort of winded dog.

Axton leaned down over the other man for a moment, still relishing in the feeling of Rhys pulsating around his length.

They stayed like that for several minutes, not quite sure what to make of the turn of events just yet. Both seemed content on not addressing it until a later date.

Axton tiredly pulled himself from the confines of his partner, some leftover finish rolling in a lazy river down the back of Rhys’ ass. Axton chuckled and pressed his thumb against the other man’s puckered hole, successfully coaxing more of his end from the amber beauty.

“You look good when you’re a mess.” Axton praised softly.

Rhys did not answer, only offered Axton a small murmur in response.

The sandy haired man made a short trip to the bathroom, and by the time he’d returned with a fresh towel to clean Rhys’ with…he came back to find his partner fast asleep in the tangle of comforters.

Axton cocked a small grin and went about dabbing the other man’s finish off his sticky body and hefted him up into his arms for the second time of the evening, though this time was far gentler. He placed the lanky man on the bed once more, his head properly settled in a mass of pillows. Rhys nuzzled into the sheets sleepily, only half aware of his surroundings. He was just so tired, he just needed sleep.

Axton tossed the dirtied towel down on the floor and looked to his sleeping counterpart.

God what had he fucking done?

The kid was married.

He wasn’t quite sure what to think of his actions just yet…but for now he was just going to enjoy the moment. He was just going to accept that Rhys was in his bed, both of them tired and winded from a frantic bout of fucking that should never have happened. But he couldn’t take it back now.

Was it selfish?

Most likely.

Axton sighed and clambered into the bed next to Rhys’ sleeping form, little sounds of slumber coming from the lanky man.

Axton turned over and pulled the younger man close and Rhys wormed into his arms without reserve.

He hated that this felt so right.

But the kid was warm and the bed was warmer and he allowed it to lull him to sleep.


End file.
